


Your Hand Fits Perfectly in Mine

by Aiambia



Series: Your Hand Fits Perfectly in Mine [1]
Category: Crash Pad (2017), Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: Eventual Smut, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Slow Burn, Stensland is broke and needy, kylux adjacent, mild sexual refrences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-03-16 17:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13641132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aiambia/pseuds/Aiambia
Summary: Stensland's life is going nowhere fast, but a run in at the grocery store mixed with some bad decision making might just get him back on track.





	1. Strawberry Ice Cream

 

 

Stensland stares at the rows and rows of canned beef noodles and sighs. He takes eight cans, putting them beside the liters of mountain dew and bucket of tide pods. Maybe he’ll get some more snacks next. There are already three bags of sour patch and gummy bears in his cart, but one can never be too prepared for a Dawson’s Creek marathon.

A year later and Stensland has gone nowhere fast. It’s not like things were going terribly. He had a job, a place to sleep, and plenty of weed, but that was kind of it. He’d come off the high of solving Morgan and Grady’s marriage after a month and then…nothing.

He still couldn’t get a date. He went swooping into clubs and bars like a condor, and they laughed. It wasn’t long before he remembered it was Grady, not him, that liked going out to places like that. So, he tried something more his style: coffee shops, the grocery store, and Soft Solutions. Still no luck. Stensland tries not to let it bother him. He knows he’s a mighty condor, a beautiful peacock with his feathers on display. He just hasn’t found the right lady yet.

He’s making his way to the check out when he realizes he forgot his gallon of strawberry ice cream. A bit of mental math (that hurts his brain and takes far longer than it should) tells him he should have enough to buy it along with the rest of his groceries, so he turns back towards the frozen goods section.

 

And then he sees her.

 

Her long brown hair falls around her shoulders in long bouncy waves, and perfectly manicured nails toss it over her shoulder like a veil. Her dress is a short but none-the-less stylish pink polka-dot number with the heels to match and large hoop earrings. She reaches up, trying to grab a bottle of hair-something-or-other, and Stensland can just barely see her dress riding up on her cute little ass.

Like the bold powerful condor he is, Stensland swoops in and plucks the hair-whatever off the top shelf and hands it to her.

“M’lady,” he says, holding it out to her like a its jewel.

She giggles softly, but the look on her face is some sort of vague discomfort. “Well, aren’t you sweet?” She says, with a bit of a mid-western drawl.

Despite her initial reaction, Stensland is determined to at least get her name. She’s so beautiful, but she doesn’t seem like the girls from the club. Her style may be a bit childish, but Stensland is sure that under all that pink is a beautiful dove ready to roost with only the fiercest of condors.

“Can I have ice cream?” yells a child, suddenly, from behind the woman. She has that same drawl when she speaks.

Stensland looks past the woman, and sees a blond child sitting in a shopping cart. His smile falters. A child. Is this beautiful dove married already? The kid is dressed in something absurdly sparkly and sheer; more sheer than Stensland thinks is appropriate for a child of seven? Maybe eight?

“Didn’t you tell your daddy were on a diet?” The woman asks.

“That she did,” Stensland hears someone say from behind him.

When he turns around, he’s face to face with what he can only describe as a Doberman in desperate need of a haircut. The man has the same mid-western drawl as the woman and the girl, but that’s where the similarities end. This man, this _beast_ , towers over Stensland (not really, but it feels that way), glowering at him with a hard stare that gives away nothing and body made of pure muscle. This must be her husband.

Stensland feels his confidence vanish.

The man doesn’t seem to see him, however. He speaks past Stensland, to the woman. “She told Jimmy that could not have sugar before the pageant as it may interfere with her performance.” He speaks slowly, expression unchanging. “However, given that the pageant is now over and Sadie won first place, I strongly feel that we should get ice cream to celebrate.”

He pauses to let the woman answer and the child, Sadie, pleads with her. Finally, the woman rolls her eyes and relents. “Well then, go get some ice cream.”

Stensland looks between the three of them, trying to sort out everyone’s relationships in his head. Is she available or isn’t she? And who’s Jimmy? He wouldn’t want to impede on another man’s happiness (not when the man looked like he could destroy Stensland with just his pink), but his dove is too sweet to just let her fly away.

The man doesn’t react, but as he turns to leave, he notices Stensland, finally. Stensland wishes he hadn’t. A frown forms on his face, and stares at Stensland. He leans in, looms closer. Stensland shrinks back.

“Um…h-hi,” Stensland says. His mind races, trying to find a way out of this situation without having his face punched in, again. The man’s frown deepens.

“Clyde!” The woman chastises. “Knock that off. You’re scaring him.”

Remembering that the beautiful woman is still there behind him, Stensland scoffs. “What, _him_? Oh no, he’s not – _I’m_ not scared. Pfft, _scared_. Nothing could…scare me,” Stensland trails off as he tries to size up Clyde.

Clyde is slow to react. He blinks a few times, looks at the woman, then looks back at Stensland. “M’sorry,” he mutters, then looks down at the floor. He mutters something else, maybe, but Stensland can’t hear it.

Stensland tries to laugh it off as he makes his escape. “Oh, there’s nothing to apologize for. I’m not – _wasn’t_ scared. It’s 100% a-okay. So now I need to – um – _go_. Over there. Have a wonderful day!”

As he backtracks down the aisle, Stensland looks over his shoulder. Sadie continues to whine about ice cream while the woman has some sort of perplexed look on her face. It’s not aimed at him, however, so Stensland keeps walking until he makes it to the ice cream aisle. Only when he’s there and sure he hasn’t been followed does he heave a sigh of relief.

Without the threat of getting pounded into the ground, he roams the aisle leisurely, looking for his favorite brand of ice cream. It takes a moment to find (only because he stares longingly at all of the nice condiments that he can’t afford), but he finds it. It’s the last carton of strawberry left, so he grabs it before anyone else has a chance to take it from him.

“Excuse me,” Clyde says.

Stensland nearly jumps out of his skin as he turns towards Clyde. He may have screamed as well. He’s not sure. “H-hi! Hello!” Stensland says, a bit frantically. Where did he come from? Stensland was so sure no one followed him. “Is…is there, uh, something I can help you with?”

Clyde frowns again. He looks like he’s going to murder Stensland. “I just wanted—“

“Ice cream!” Stensland shouts suddenly. “Your – uh – Sadie wanted ice cream. Well, here you are! It was nice meeting you. Have a lovely afternoon sir.”

Before he can think better of it, Stensland shoves his carton of ice cream in to the man’s hands and makes a b-line for the cash registers. He shoves his way to the font of a line, cutting in front of some old woman when he sees Clyde a few feet behind him. He doesn’t even look at how much cash he throws at the cashier as he grabs his bags and runs out of the store.

It’s a short sprint to his bicycle (which he finally got enough money to buy), but securing his groceries onto the back of it is more difficult. He fiddles with the small locking thing, and laments not buying a bicycle with a basket on the front of it. Every now and then he glances over his shoulder to make sure Clyde isn’t coming, and for a while it looks like he’s in the clear.

Then Clyde is exiting the supermarket with Sadie and the woman. The woman takes Sadie and walks off towards the parking lot, but Clyde pauses and starts looking around. Stensland panics and works on securing his groceries faster, but his hands are shaking too hard to make the lock fit together. He glances over his shoulder again and sees Clyde walking towards him. Stensland turns back to the lock. Why won’t it just lock?!

“Excuse me.”

Stensland jumps again, and a few of his cans fall to the ground as he turns around.

Clyde frowns at the fallen groceries. “I’m sorry I keep spookin’ you. I didn’t mean to make you upset, but you forgot your ice cream.”

“What?” Stensland is shocked enough that when Clyde hands him the carton of strawberry ice cream, he’s sure Clyde knocked him out earlier and this is all a dream.

“You just ran off without it,” Clyde says. He stoops down to pick up Stensland’s caned meals and secures them to the back of his bike. Stensland watches him, confused, and notices, finally, that his left arm is a very expensive looking prosthetic. “I thought you would want it back.”

“Oh. Um. What about your daughter?” Stensland asks. He still can’t quite believe he’s not bleeding out on the ground. “I thought she wanted ice cream.”

“Sadie is my brother Jimmy’s daughter,” Clyde says. He won’t look Stensland in the eye, and it’s comforting, in some odd way. “She likes chocolate better anyways.”

He pronounces each syllable of ‘chocolate’ separately, and Stensland can’t help but think it’s a little endearing. “Oh. Well, thank you.” He stares, dumbly, as Clyde takes the ice cream and secures that to his bike too.

“You’re welcome,” Clyde says. “I guess you’d better get home before your ice cream melts.”

“Um, yeah…yeah, I’ll do that.”

“T-Take care now.”

Stensland swears he hears Clyde stutter his farewell as he pedals away, but he’s too glad to be away from him to focus on whatever he said. It doesn’t matter anyway. Those people seemed like they were from out of town.

It’s only once Stensland is back in his apartment that he realizes he never got the woman’s name. He learned the names of Sadie and Clyde, but not his dove. Groaning, he forgoes putting the groceries away and sits down on his couch with the carton of ice cream. He reaches for the remote, unpausing season three episode fourteen of Dawson’s creek.

The receipt for the ice cream is lost to the mess of Stensland’s manliness, and later his trash. The phone number on the back of it goes unseen.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what I shouldn't be doing? Posting this because I have proven that I can't finish any story that I start. Seriously, I think there are only two finished fics out of all the ones I've posted, and one of them is a one-shot. 
> 
> Heck, I don't know.


	2. It's On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so they meet again! 
> 
> Clyde is still Clyde.
> 
> Stensland is still clueless.

 

 

Stensland sighs when he steps into the warmth of the bar. It was cold and rainy outside, and Stensland hadn’t brought an umbrella with him. His hair was soaked and his socks were uncomfortably moist, but all he can think of is that he should’ve known better.

His shoes squelch and squeak as he makes his way across the room to a stool at the bar. Some people stare, but he doesn’t pay them any mind. His head is in his hands as soon as he sits down. Idly, he wishes he were back at home, with his drinking buddies. At least then he’d have someone to talk to instead of being stuck miles away in North Carolina.

After a few minutes – thought it feels like forever – a shadow on the other side of the bar appears in front of him.

“I’ll have a cosmo,” Stensland says, without looking up. The shadow – bartender, probably – pauses for a moment before running off to make Stensland his drink. Then, after a few minutes of pouring and shaking, his drink is placed in front of him in a nice little glass, complete with a little umbrella.

Stensland downs the whole thing in one go. It’s not quite like the drinks back home. This one is sweeter, but also more biting. Whatever alcohol this bartender is using is strong. “Another, please.”

The bartender pauses again, this time for longer, but eventually he turns away to make Stensland another drink. It takes him longer to come back this time. Figures. He has other customers that are much more important than him.

Jessica certainly seemed to think so. She decided he was so unimportant that they didn’t need to meet up. _She_ decided he was _so_ unimportant that he didn’t even deserve to know that she didn’t really live in North Carolina!

His next drink is poured into a fresh glass and put in front of him. It has a different colored umbrella. Stensland finishes the second one in one shot as well.

“Are you doing alright there?” He hears the bartender ask quietly.

“Alright? I’m doing just _peachy!_ ” Stensland says, a bit hysterically. “Nothing’s wrong! Nope! Not at all! Everything is A. Oh. Kay.”

Truthfully, he’s everything but okay, but the bartender doesn’t need to know that. Hell, he probably doesn’t _want_ to know. Stensland can tell because hears his footsteps walking away.

Then he hears those footsteps coming right back towards him, and the bartender says, “Would you like to talk about what happened?”

“Happened?” Stensland hears himself saying. There’s another drink in front of him. It’s stronger than the cosmos he ordered earlier, but he doesn’t protest as he drinks it. “ _Nothing_ happened! Things _happened_ for five months. Talking happened, video chattin _g_ happened, _feelings_ happened! ‘ _Come see me!’_ She said! _‘Come visit me Stensland! Come to North Carolina like a hopless fucking **idiot**_ _and—“_ ….”

Stensland trails off, blinking tears from his eyes. It feels awful, finally saying everything out loud. He thought he’d had his share of crying on the walk from his motel, but no. Hearing himself say it just made him feel worse.

“She told me she’d pick me up at the airport. Saved up for a ticket and everything, and what did I get? Nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.” Stensland downs the rest of his drink, then hears it being refilled a few seconds later. He should probably stop drinking. His tab will be through the roof, and he doesn’t have the money to pay for that much.

“Maybe she was on her way to get you,” the bartender says.

“She didn’t answer my texts or calls.”

“Did you wait very long?”

“I slept at the airport waiting for her! My flight got in at 10am _yesterday_!”

The bartender doesn’t reply. Stensland hears footsteps walking away, but before he can assume anything, he hears the footsteps coming back towards him. There’s the scratch of wood on wood (a chair or stool maybe), the dull _thunk_ of a glass making contact with the bar, and the sound of another drink being poured.

“That was awfully rude of her to do,” the bartender says.

Stensland tries to laugh, but it sounds more like a hiccup. “I thought she was gonna be it, you know? Her name was Jessica and she had this long blonde hair with bright green eyes, and huge boobs. Like, they were _massive_.”

He takes a sip of his drink, knowing it’ll be topped off before he can even protest. “I just…If she didn’t want to be with me, she could’ve said something, you know? They never say anything. Morgan never said anything either. We made love and—well, _I_ made love. She just let me believe that she loved me.”

“My mama taught me that love is something patient and kind and selfless. I don’t believe that those ladies were being very kind to you,” the bartender says.

Stensland sighs. “You don’t know the half of it.”

…

They talked like that for what felt like hours. Well, Stensland did the talking. The bartender mostly just listened. Occasionally, he’d walk away to take care of another customer or get more alcohol for them, but he always came back. Stensland had no idea what he’d done to deserve it, but he appreciated the company.

It wasn’t until the bar was closing that Stensland realized how late it had gotten.

“Clyde, don’t stay up too late!” He hears a woman say. Stensland pauses in the middle of his rambling when he hears the bartender moving.

“I cannot promise not to do that,” the bartender says. After a moment, Stensland hears him huff. Clyde…why does that sound familiar?

“Well, at least make sure he gets home alright,” says a man. The door opens as the man speaks. Stensland can hear the soft patter of rain outside. Shit. That’s gonna make the walk back awful.

“That I can do,” the bartender replies. Idly, Stensland wonders who _he_ is. More than that, he can’t help but think he’s heard the name ‘Clyde’ somewhere before, recently.

“Goodnight, Clyde,” the woman says. Then the door closes.

Once they’re gone, the bartender sits back down on his stool, and waits. Stensland’s just about forgotten what he was talking about. Instead his mind is occupied trying to figure out why ‘Clyde’ sounds so familiar. Is it possible that they’ve met before?

Clyde.

 _Clyde_.

Realization hits him like a brick, and Stensland jumps in his seat, scrambling to sit upright and get a good look at the bartender’s face. His vision blurs momentarily from all the drinks he’s had, and Stensland has to force himself to keep the contents of his stomach in his stomach.

Then, he sees him. Dark, shaggy hair, a long face like a Doberman, body build like a beast, and a very expensive looking prosthetic arm; no wonder the name ‘Clyde’ sounded so familiar.

“Oh my god,” Stensland whispers.

Did he know? Has he known who Stensland was this whole time? Was this all some elaborate revenge plot for hitting on Clyde’s sister? It had to be. Why else would he sit around and listen to Stensland whine about all of his problems for hours if not to have something to hold over him?

But maybe he doesn’t remember. Maybe he has no idea who Stensland is and was just being a very nice bartender.

“It has been some time since we last spoke,” Clyde says carefully. “And we did not get to talk very much because you had to get your ice cream home. However—“

He cuts himself off when Stensland stands abruptly. He remembers. Clyde remembers, and Stensland is fucked.

Stensland runs out of the bar before Clyde can say another word. He doesn’t care that it’s still raining, he doesn’t care that he’s too drunk to really walk straight; all that matters is getting away from the certain death that is Clyde.

 

…

 

Somehow, Stensland made it back to his motel room alright.

Mostly alright.

His wet clothes made a giant wet spot in the bed, he was covered in mud, and he had a massive hangover, but he managed to escape Clyde without a scratch. It was a night that he definitely never wanted to relive. But, once Stensland is able to properly clean up and drag himself to a diner for some food, the memories won’t stop playing in his head.

He can’t remember much. He knows that he was rambling on for hours about Jessica, then Morgan and Grady, but after that it gets a little blurry. He remembers hearing the woman and man call out to Clyde, seeing his face, his body, his arm, and then running. Fortunately, he also remembers that the bar is called Duck Tape, so he can avoid it for the rest of his life and never have to see Clyde again.

It’s only once he’s paying for brunch that Stensland remembers he never paid for his tab at the bar.

His heart sinks. It wouldn’t be so bad if he just didn’t pay for it, right? If he skips town, then Clyde won’t be able to find him. But where would he go? The lease on his apartment back home was up—that’s part of why he decided to come to North Carolina to see Jessica—and he had no idea where to go from here. It took months of research before he finally decided to move away from Ireland. He had no idea what was around North Carolina or how to get there. How was he going to find another apartment before Clyde caught him?

It’s probably better if he just goes back to the bar and pays his tab. Then Clyde would have no reason to come after him. Stensland sighs. This isn’t going to go well for him.

…

It’s about nine in the evening before Stensland finally forces himself down to the bar. It’s not actually a long walk from his motel, which makes things a bit more frightening. He stands outside the door for ages, trying to muster up his confidence. A few people pass by him, staring, but Stensland ignores them.

He shakes his nerves out once last time, and tries to talk himself up. “Okay, Stensland. You can do this.” He puffs out his chest, and puts (what he hopes is) a menacing frown on his face. “You just walk in there, pay for your tab, and walk out. No questions. No small talk. No breaking eye contact. You’re not a coward; you’re a condor. A big beautiful condor that men envy and women love. And you can do this.”

When he walks in the door, he immediately makes eye contact with Clyde. Suddenly, he’s not sure he can do this.

Both of them are frozen in place, staring at each other, waiting for the other person to make a move. Finally, a woman on the far side of the bar leans over and shoves Clyde to get his attention. Once he’s not looking, Stensland makes to run again, but people start walking into the bar at the same time he tries to walk out.

Stensland gets swept up in the crowd and ends up at the bar anyway. He sits at the end closest to the door, idly remembering that it’s the same place he sat last night. He looks up at Clyde and…Clyde doesn’t look back.

Stensland waits. It’s no big deal, but after ten minutes, he begins to wonder if _Clyde_ is avoiding _him_. For some reason, he keeps looking over at Stensland, but he never walks over there to talk to him, or even take his order. He tends to every customer except Stensland, and it’s starting to piss him off a bit.

“Clyde!” a woman yells. It’s the same woman from the night before, the one who shoved Clyde earlier. Her wavy brown hair and bright outfit look familiar, but Stensland can’t remember her name.

She’s sitting with another man that looks like a beast, and the two of them start talking to Clyde in hushed whispers when he approaches them. Stensland watches, and every now and then the man and woman look past Clyde at _him_.

 _“Look at him,”_ he hears the man say. He gestures towards Stensland. _“He -– small --- don’t be—“_

Clyde looks over his shoulder at Stensland. They make eye contact again, and Stensland watches Clyde frown and look away. The woman rolls her eyes and arches one of her perfectly drawn eyebrows. Clyde’s shoulders visibly flex as he sighs. They don’t look as beastly from a distance. Actually, his shoulders look broad and muscular.

Then, he turns and walks straight for Stensland.

The movement is so quick that Stensland barely has time to register it before they’re face-to-face. Stensland freezes. He knows what he needs to say, but his mind is drawing a blank. Clyde, too, just stands there with his mouth ajar, searching for words.

“C-Can I get you something to drink?” Clyde asks, frown still etched into his face.

“A martini,” Stensland says on instinct. He kicks himself mentally. He’s supposed to be paying for his tab, not racking up a higher bill.

Clyde nods and moves away to make his drink…only he doesn’t make it right away. He walks back to the man and woman. They look quite exasperated.

 _“---not that hard---“_ the man says.

 _“If---you’ll regret---“_ the woman says.

Stensland wants to think they’re talking about the tab that he didn’t pay, but the way they all keep looking over at him doesn’t add up. Eventually, Clyde makes his martini and brings it over to him, but Stensland is just barely to say “thank you” before Clyde runs back to the man and woman again.

The man throws up his hands in frustration as soon as Clyde turns away from Stensland. The woman drops her head into her hands. They talk to him more intensely, putting less effort into being subtle when they look over at Stensland.

Finally, the woman points at him, and says, very clearly, “tell him.”

With a frown on his face, Clyde looks at Stensland, then back to the woman. “But…Mellie—“

“Don’t ‘ _But Mellie_ ’ me. Go! And don’t come back over here until you say it!”

Stensland knows he should be more frightened. Clyde is lumbering towards him with a deep frown on his face and a stare that hasn’t yet broken, but the fingers on his prosthetic hand twitch randomly and his shoulders are sagging. It’s scary, but Stensland gets the feeling that he’s not the one who’s afraid.

When Clyde is standing in front of him again, Stensland feels more confident. Clyde looks down at the bar, then up at Stensland, then down again. “You left in a hurry last night,” Clyde says. “Did you make it back alright?”

“Oh, yeah. That was fine,” Stensland scoffs. “Motel’s pretty close.”

Clyde looks up at him then, with what Stensland thinks is surprise. It could be fury. Or constipation. It’s kind of hard to tell when his range of expressions are various degrees of frowning.

“I mean, I was supposed to stay with Jessica, but…you know how that went.” He tries to laugh it off, but Stensland knows how pathetic it sounds when he starts rambling on about women.

Clyde’s frown shifts again. He looks tired. Or maybe that’s pity. Stensland chooses to take it as tiredness. Pity would just make him feel bad. His hands reach behind the counter, and he starts mixing a few drinks. It reminds Stensland why he came back to the bar in the first place.

“Oh! Um, no. Thank you. I mean, I just came by to pay for my tab,” Stensland says, pulling out his wallet. He sighs at how empty it is. Hopefully, twenty dollars is enough to pay of everything. “How much do I owe you?”

The sound of ice crashing together inside the cocktail shaker stops abruptly. Stensland looks up. Clyde is looking down at him, more specifically his wallet. His mouth sets in a hard line before he continues making the cocktail.  “Your drinks are on the house,” Clyde says.

“ _What_? No, you can’t possibly—“

“Last night seemed very hard for you,” Clyde started. “And although you did have a lot to drink, you technically only ordered the one cosmo…”

He pauses, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Stensland before speaking again. “Seeing as it was your first time at here, your drink was going to be free anyway. First one is always on the house for new folks.”

He pours the drink he’s mixing into a cocktail glass and pushes it towards Stensland. “And this one’s on me,” he mumbles. “It’s a virgin since you drank so much last night.”

“Oh…” Stensland feels a little bad for drinking so much only to have his bill waved, but he’s also not about to complain about it. “Thanks.”

Clyde nods and walks off to tend to the other guests. Stensland watches him while he sips on his drink. Clyde is…not bad, he concludes. Sure, he looks pretty scary, but he gave Stensland free drinks and listened to him, practically all night. He wonders why Clyde never smiles. Maybe he’s secretly a robot.

Stensland is shaken from his day dream by the sound of the woman on the other side of the bar talking again. Clyde tries to approach her, but she yells at him and turns her back to the bar. The man sitting beside her shrugs. Hesitantly, Clyde looks back at Stensland again, but as soon as they make eye contact, his gaze drops to his feet. The man says something else, and then Clyde walks back over to Stensland.

“Are they your friends, or….?” Stensland asks.

“That’s Jimmy and Mellie, my big brother and sister,” Clyde says, looking down at the bar.

“And they keep yelling at you because…”

Clyde hesitates, gaze flickering up to Stensland, then to anywhere else in the bar and back. Finally, he reaches behind the bar again, pulling out a napkin and a pen. His non-robot hand shakes as he writes.

“Since that Jessica lady probably won’t be coming by, I can show you around if you’d like. I mean, if you’ll be staying for a while,” he says. ”J-just call me or text me whenever you need something.”

He looks down at the bar as he talks and keeps looking down as he waits for Stensland to say something.

“Oh,” Stensland says. He reaches for the napkin. _‘Clyde Logan’_ it reads, with his phone number scrawled underneath. “Really?”

Clyde nods. His ears are bright red. Stensland smiles. He can’t believe his luck. “Thanks,” he says. Clyde sort of smiles, but not really. His mouth looks more like a line, but it’s the closest he’s gotten to a real smile in the twenty-four-ish hours that Stensland’s known him.

Stensland takes the number and adds a new contact into his phone while he finishes his free drink. “I wish it was always this easy to make friends,” He says aloud to himself.

 

He misses the way Clyde’s shoulders fall.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stensland is as dense as a rock. 
> 
> I also adored writing the parts where Clyde went back and forth between his siblings and Stensland. Does anyone happen to know if Clyde is the baby the middle child? I thought he was the baby, and I like that sibling dynamic better, but I don't remember if the movie specified anything but Jimmy being oldest.


	3. Work It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stensland decides it's finally time to go job hunting, but he has no idea where to look.

 

 

Stensland stares down at the napkin in his hand, repeating Clyde’s phone number in his head again and again. He’s been staring at it intermittently since Sunday. It’s Tuesday now. Clyde did say Stensland could call if he needed anything, but this felt like a bit much.

As if he didn’t already regret moving to North Carolina on a whim, the universe seems content to mock him for it. The motel he’s staying in is decent enough, but if he wants to keep staying there and keep having food to eat, then he needs to find a way to fatten his wallet.

But, who would hire him without a resume? It wasn’t as if Stensland had a computer and printer just lying around. Would people even take his resume? This seemed more like a town where reputation mattered more than written accomplishments. He’d need at least a few recommendations to get a job. Stensland needs help, and the only person he knows will help him in this town is Clyde.

Taking a deep breath, Stensland gathers his courage and punches the number into the hotel phone. His free hand grips the napkin tightly, reading the numbers, checking that he put it in correctly. It rings once, twice, five times, and then it clicks.

_“This is Clyde Logan. I apologize that I could not pick up the phone at this moment. Please leave a message and I will call you back.”_

Stensland frowns, pouts to himself as he hears the beep telling him to leave a message. He hangs up without saying a word and tries calling again. Once more, he reaches Clyde’s voice mail.

“Hi,” Stensland says when the recording asks him to leave a message. “It’s – uh – Stensland. The guy from the bar who…cried. Um, anyway, you said I could call you if I needed anything, so I was just wondering if you knew a place that was hiring? I kind of need some money and the only way to get that is by working so—“

“ _I know a few places.”_ Clyde’s voice suddenly comes through the phone, making Stensland jump. When did he pick up?

“Oh…great.” Stensland says.

For a long moment, neither of them say anything. Then, Clyde mutters, just loud enough for Stensland to hear: _“I suppose I should have said ‘hello’ first…m’sorry.”_

Stensland smiles. Despite his stature and appearance, Clyde’s manages to sound like a guilty child. Stensland tries his hardest not to laugh.

 _“Well, hello,”_ Clyde says. He sounds softer, less guilty.

“Hi,” Stensland replies.

 _“So, I know a few places that might be lookin’ for folks,”_ Clyde says. When he starts listing the places off, Stensland scrambles to grab the note pad and pen in his bedside table. _“There’s Amy’s bookstore. She’s looking for a few people to cover evening shifts. Noah’s Carpentry, if you like working with all them tools. The Wal-Mart is always hiring—“_

“And how far away are all these places, exactly?” Stensland cuts in. “I’m staying at that Star Highway Motel, and I don’t exactly have a car, so…”

_“Bus stop is right by the bar. It can take you into town.”_

Stensland fishes his wallet out of yesterday’s pants. “How much is the bus?” He asks, thumbing through the cash he has left. His credit cards are basically useless. He hasn’t had any money in his bank account for a few days now.

_“The bus fare is about $1.25 per trip or $45 for a monthly bus pass.”_

Stensland sighs. He has about $80 to his name, just enough for another few days of food, if he can stretch it. If he buys a bus pass, then that means less days of food until his pay check. If he manages to get a job, that is. He could take individual trips, but how many would it be before he finds a job?

“And, how far away would it be, walking?” Stensland asks.

 _“It’s a bit too far to walk,”_ Clyde tells him. _“It would take an hour for you to get there, maybe, and an hour to get back.”_

Walking that far sounds awful, especially in the heat but Stensland really doesn’t have another option. “Thanks. I guess I’ll leave early tomorrow, then.”

Clyde doesn’t reply. Stensland waits a moment, but he doesn’t hear Clyde’s voice. “Um…hello? Clyde?” He says.

Still no reply. Frowning, Stensland almost hangs up, but then he hears muffled talking. It sounds like arguing, almost, but Stensland can’t tell who’s talking. He manages to understand every seventh word, maybe.

 _“He…bus…we…no…walk…Jimmy!...Fine._ _Stensland, are you still there?”_ Clyde asks suddenly.

Stensland jumps a little, feeling like he was just caught. “Um, yes?”

_“Alright. Stay where you are.”_

“What?”

Then the phone clicks and Stensland is left with dial tone.

Stensland frowns, unsure of what just happened. He hangs up the phone and wonders what he’s supposed to do. It’s still early in the day. He could go job hunting now, but then there’s the matter of wearing the right clothes and knowing what to say.

But he can do this.

With renewed confidence, Stensland heads to the shower, talking himself up along the way. He puts on his best clothes, a suit that Grady left him as a parting gift, and primped himself until he looked every bit like the beautiful condor he was meant to be. He doesn’t have the gel to slick his hair back, but he can at least part it nicely. The suit does most of the work, however. Stensland decides to forgo the coat, given how warm it is outside, and rolls up the sleeves to his elbows.

Then, with his list of places to visit, and a final pep talk to himself, Stensland heads out the door…And nearly runs head-first into Clyde.

“Um…hello?” Is the first and only thing Stensland can think to say. He stares up at Clyde, surprised and confused to see him at his motel room door.

Clyde stares back, equally as surprised (or as surprised as Clyde can look). His arm is raised as if to knock on the door. He looks Stensland over as if he’s never seen a man in a suit, and his ears go pink.

“You can come in if you’d like?” Stensland says, figuring it must be hot out if Clyde is starting to turn red. Clyde visibly swallows but doesn’t say anything. Strange, Stensland thinks, that he’s so talkative over the phone, but they can’t seem to have a proper conversation face-to-face. “…Or we can just stand here.”

A car horn honks, somewhere behind Clyde, and Stensland hears a voice call out, “Well, is he coming or ain’t he?”

Stensland stands on his toes, peeking over Clyde’s shoulder. Jimmy is there, sitting in the driver’s seat of a pick-up truck, not too far away. He waves when he sees Stensland.

“So, what are you doing here?” Stensland asks Clyde.

“Well,” Clyde starts. He looks either uncomfortable or indifferent, Stensland isn’t sure. “It didn’t sound like you would be able to go look for a job very easily, so Jimmy suggested that we drive you around until you can get a bus pass.”

Stensland isn’t sure what to say. “I…No, I couldn’t possibly.” Clyde’s shoulders fall, and Stensland feels bad. “I mean, it’s just so much. You’d be going out of your way basically…basically every day! I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s no trouble,” Clyde says, looking at his feet. “I own bar anyways, so I’m free to pick you up and bring you back during the day.”

“…but, every day?” Stensland tries to argue.

“I don’t know how folks do things where you’re from, but down here friends help each other out,” Clyde says.

It makes Stensland feel warm and fuzzy just hearing Clyde say that they’re friends. Just to know that someone cares is a bit overwhelming. The last person who gave enough of a damn about him was Grady, and that was something Stensland preferred not to think about.

So, he smiles instead and says, “Okay. Okay, so where to first?”

 

 

…

 

 

On Thrusday, they went to the bakery. They arrived later in the morning, but there was still fresh bread and pastries to be had. Stensland went straight to the display window, but woman behind the counter stopped the Logan boys.

“Mijos!” She cried, pulling both of them in for a hug despite being half their size. “You haven’t been by in too long! What brings you in today, hmm? And who’s your friend?”

Stensland takes that as his cue to turn around and greet her, but Clyde beats him to it. “Mornin’ Maria. This is my friend Stensland. He needs a job and we were wondering if you had any openings.”

It seems to catch her off guard. Maria pauses, looking back and forth between Clyde and Stensland. “I’m sorry mijos,” She says eventually. “I just can’t afford to take on more help right now.”

Stensland deflates a bit, but that’s understandable. He opens his mouth to thank her, but Clyde, again, speaks over him.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything you need help with? Stensland is…” he trails off, glancing at Stensland. “He could make ingredient runs for you, or do the dishes, or—“

“Okay! I think that’s enough, Clyde,” Jimmy pulls him back as a bewildered Maria looks between them in confusion.

They all stand there for a moment, Clyde, Jimmy, and Maria clearly surprised by Clyde’s outburst. Stensland doesn’t know what that’s all about. “I think what Clyde means is, I’d be happy to help out in whatever what you’d need me,” Stensland says. “But not being able to afford more help is perfectly understandable! It’s not a huge deal if you can’t hire me.”

Maria looks at him. Then, she looks at Clyde. Then she gives Stensland a _look_. Stensland has no idea what it means, but it’s not a bad look. He thinks.

“I see,” She says. Stensland doesn’t understand whatever she’s suddenly understood. Jimmy nods knowingly at her, and Clyde’s ears have gone red. It only makes Stensland more confused. Maria claps her hands together and smiles. “Well! I am sorry I can help you, but why don’t you take a few pastries for the road? I bet you boys must be getting hungry!”

“Oh, we couldn’t possibly—“ Stensland starts, but Maria hushes him and shoves a bag of pastries into his hands. Stensland offers them to Jimmy and Clyde, but Clyde walks out of the bakery before Stensland can get a word out. He looks back to Jimmy, but he’s wrapped up in a conversation with Maria, so Stensland follows Clyde out.

Clyde leans against the window right outside of the bakery. It’s a little hard to tell if his ears are still red in the sunlight, but they don’t look like they’ve changed much.

“Hey,” Stensland greets, mouth full of some sort of cookie. “Did you want a pastry?”

Clyde looks at the bag. “No thank you. I don’t like sweet things very much.”

“You sure?” Stensland reaches into the bag and pulls out something that looks like a half-moon. “They’re good.”

Clyde frowns at him. Stensland’s instincts tell him he should be afraid, but he’s starting to get used to this frown. He recognizes it as the same one he got when they first met, and the one he got just before Clyde gave him his phone number.

Stensland pushes the pastry closer to Clyde’s face. Clyde takes it. He eats the whole thing in one bite (but to be fair, it is a small pastry) and chews thoughtfully. “It’s good,” he stays, mouth still full.

“I think they’re called Empanadas!” Stensland says, digging another one out of the bag. The label does indeed read ‘Empanada’, so Stensland unwraps it and takes a bite. “Mmm! You’re right; these are great! We should come back here sometime. Maria’s pastries are really good. I’ve never had Mexican deserts before…what?”

Clyde isn’t frowning anymore, but he has another look on his face. Something softer. “Nothing,” he says.

Stensland doesn’t believe him, but Jimmy chooses that moment to walk out of the bakery and whisk them away to their next destination.

 

 

…

 

 

On Saturday they go to the furniture store.

“I just don’t think you’d be a good fit,” says Hank, the manager. “You know a lot about the inventory but…you’re just not the kind of sales guy we’re looking for.”

“But, I have the experience!” Stensland tries to reason. “Just let me talk to a customer. Or, or I can talk to you like you’re the customer, and I can show you what I can do.”

Hank sighs. “Look, I’ve already said no. You obviously know a lot, but I’ll be honest, you don’t look the part. You just…you…” Hank trails off, tripping over his words as he looks between Stensland and somewhere behind Stensland. He glares at whatever’s behind Stensland, mouth set in a hard line. “Fine. You’ll do a sales pitch to one of my employees. I’ll be back in five.”

He storms off towards the ‘Employees Only’ area. Or maybe he ran away? It’s hard to tell.

“You have to stop doing that,” Jimmy whispers.

Stensland turns around, thinking Jimmy is talking to him, but instead he sees the Logan brothers huddled together a foot or two away from him. Jimmy has both of his hands-on Clyde’s shoulders, and Clyde looks livid. His normal frowns have nothing on how furious he looks right now. Stensland can see his chest heaving as he breathes. His shoulders are hunched forward, making him look bigger, more muscular, and his biceps flex periodically.

He looks like such a man, and Stensland is speechless. He’s probably the reason why Hank ran off so suddenly. Clyde is probably strong enough to pick him up. That’s sexy. Stensland wishes he could be like that.

By the time Hank returns, Clyde has calmed down. Hank looks warily at Clyde but otherwise gives Stensland his attention. “Alright. Lexie here is going to be your customer. Just convince her to buy something, and we’ll go from there.”

“Alright!” Stensland takes a breath and puts on his happy face. He’s trained for this moment. “Hello! Welcome to Sofa King Soft! My name is Stensland, how may I help you today?”

Lexie smiles back at him. “Oh, well I was just looking to buy a recliner today.”

“Wonderful! Did you have a material in mind? Anything specific you’d like from your new recliner?” Stensland leads her towards the recliner section, glancing back at Hank…who is having a staring contest with Clyde.

“Well, I have two young kids and a dog,” Lexie explains.

“Ah, so you’ll want something pet-proof, and easy to clean?” Stensland walks towards the leather options.

“Yes, but I’m not the biggest fan of leather.”

Stensland thinks for a moment, then doubles back towards the front of the store. “Then might I recommend something made from Nuvella? It’s a polyester fabric that’s very easy to clean and it doesn’t attract pet fur—“

“I’m sorry, I don’t think this is going to work,” Hank cuts in.

Stensland’s heart sinks. He turns around, expecting Hank to dismiss him, but instead sees Hank and Clyde staring each other down. They look seconds away from punching each other. Jimmy is just barely able to hold Clyde back, and something tells Stensland leaving the store immediately is much more important than getting that job.

“But sir—“ Lexie says. “—Stensland’s doing a wonderful job. I think he—“

“Oh, that’s quite alright!” Stensland tells her. “Thank you for your time, we’ll just be going now. Come on, Clyde.”

Clyde refuses to back down, so Stensland tugs on his arm. “It’s alright, Clyde. Let’s just go.”

Clyde looks down at Stensland his gaze softens. “Fine,” Clyde mutters, but he doesn’t move. Stensland has to physically pull him out of the store. He doesn’t resist Stensland’s pulling, but Stensland still thinks it’s a bit childish of him to do.

As they drive away, Jimmy is anything but happy. “What were you thinking? You can’t just get into fights like that!”

“He wasn’t being very reasonable,” Clyde retorts.

“Neither were you!” Jimmy scolds. “Fighting employers isn’t going to get Stensland a job. If you want to help, you’ve got to stop being an idiot about it!”

Clyde punches the glove compartment with his prosthetic hand, and Stensland jumps in surprise. From Jimmy’s reaction, Clyde probably did more damage to the truck than the truck did to his hand. Stensland doesn’t think he’s ever seen Clyde so angry.

Clyde looks up at him through the rear-view mirror, and Stensland tenses. Fear shoots through him, and Stensland feels like he can’t breathe. Clyde’s gaze is terrifying. It’s like rage come to life. And then it’s not.

And then Stensland swears all of the anger just melted away. What’s left is guilt and something unidentifiable, but at least it’s not anger. That terrifying look only lasted a moment, but Stensland still needs a moment before he feels like he can breathe normally.

“I’m sorry, Stensland,” Clyde mutters. “I made you lose that job opportunity.”

“No, it’s fine,” Stensland says. They haven’t broken eye contact yet. “Hank seemed like an ass anyway.”

“…He used to be real popular in high school. Picked on me for a while. I think he’s just mad ‘cause I got so big while he’s balding and smells like socks.”

Stensland half-smiles, trying to convince Clyde and himself that he’s not as upset about losing the job as he looks.

“Yeah, he did kind of smell like socks.”

 

…

 

 

On Tuesday, Stensland doesn’t say ‘good morning.’

He gets into the passenger seat of Clyde’s car at 10am, just like they’ve been doing every day for the past week, but he doesn’t say ‘good morning.’ Instead, he looks out the window as Clyde pulls out of the motel parking lot. He feels…wrong.

“Where are we going today?” Stensland asks.

“Thought we could get some brunch first, then go to Amy’s bookstore. Amy has always been real nice,” Clyde tells him.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, save for the hum of the engine. Stensland can’t find the energy to talk, or even look at Clyde. It makes him wish Jimmy hadn’t gone back to Lynchburg. He would’ve had something to say; anything to fill the quiet. Stensland crosses his arms and leans against the door.

“What do you want to eat?” Clyde asks.

Stensland jumps, not expecting Clyde to say anything. “Doesn’t matter,” he says with a shrug. He tries to muster up the energy to say more, but he feels too tired.

“…Is there something bothering you?”

“No, I-I’m fine! Nothing is – I’m just thinking. Of what places, we’ll try today.” Stensland paints a smile on his face for the sake of appearances.

Clyde doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t ask any more questions. Stensland turns back to the window. When he blinks, he feels tears in his eyes. He wipes them away with the back of his hand, hoping Clyde didn’t notice. Doesn’t notice. The tears won’t stop coming.

Stensland frowns. He can’t keep a girlfriend, he can’t get a job, his life is in shambles, and now he can’t even keep himself calm about it. He can’t cry here, not when Clyde is going to be with him all day. It’s one thing to spend a day watching Dawson’s Creek and letting everything out when he’s alone and safe, but Clyde is here. He can’t. But he does. Stensland hears himself sniffle and knows he won’t be able to hide it for much longer. It’s stupid. _He’s_ stupid and hopeless. Clyde may as well throw him out of the car.

When he can’t hide the sobs, Stensland pulls up his knees and curls into himself in his seat. He holds himself, hides himself, hoping that he can at least muffle his crying and not annoy Clyde. This way, Clyde won’t have to even look at him. Stensland knows he’s an ugly crier.

The truck slows to a stop. Stensland rocks forward, but the motion doesn’t startle him. The driver’s door opens, then shuts, but the car stays on. This is it. Clyde is going to kick him out. Even as hard as he tried, Stensland couldn’t keep it together. Not that he was at all put together when they met.

The driver’s door opens again, then it shuts. “I’m sorry!” Stensland shouts between the sobs. Maybe, just maybe if he can get an apology out, Clyde will at least take him back to the motel.

“…um, would you like vanilla or strawberry?” Clyde asks.

Confused, Stensland looks up. He sees a vanilla milkshake and a strawberry milkshake, one in each of Clyde’s hands. A large brown paper bag sits on top of the dashboard. Clyde doesn’t look angry.

“Mellie says milkshakes aren’t breakfast food—” Clyde gaze is everywhere, unable to look Stensland in the eye. “—But make me feel better when I’m upset, so I thought it might help you too.”

Stensland almost starts crying again. He’s not sure what he was thinking. Clyde would never just kick him out. He cares. They’re friends. “Strawberry,” Stensland whispers.

They drink their milkshakes in silence, then Clyde lets Stensland pick out whatever pastries he wants from the paper bag. Admittedly, Stensland does feel better after eating. He’s still curled up, but his side is pressed against the back of the seat instead of the car door. Quietly, he sips on his milkshake, trying to find a way to say “thank you.”

“You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but I’ll listen if you want to say it,” Clyde sits back in his seat, looking down at his milkshake.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Stensland says. His voice cracks. “You keep helping me, and I’m just—I’m a mess! I can’t get a job, I can’t take care of myself, I can’t…I’m-I’m sorry I keep making you go out and…you don’t have to.” Stensland squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to cry again. “I-I don’t know. Just…You don’t h-have keep taking care of me. I can—I’ll figure it out.”

But just the thought of having to deal with everything all on his own makes Stensland shake more. His breaths come too quickly at the thought of trying to figure out how to live without a job, without money, without anyone there to help him. He hides his face in his arms again, knowing Clyde is looking at him.

Stensland feels Clyde’s hand cover one of his. “It’s okay to cry if you need to, but I won’t stop helping you. You’ve been through a lot, and I would be a bad friend if I just left you alone.” He pauses, then mumbles, “Besides, I like seeing you smile.”

Stensland wipes his nose. “Sorry. I know I’m ugly when I cry.”

“That’s not…” Clyde pauses. “I mean…you’re—you always look cute, whenever you do anything.”

Stensland looks up, wondering if he heard Clyde right. Cute? He’s not _cute_. Not right _now_ anyway, but Clyde is definitely frowning again, and his ears are pink. It makes Stensland feel warm. “Liar. I look awful right now.”

“…M’ not.” Clyde folds his arms and turns away from Stensland. His ears are bright red. Stensland laughs.

Clyde is the cute one, always getting embarrassed like that. Stensland is surprised he hasn’t mentioned a girlfriend yet. If he isn’t taken yet, he should be. Anyone woman would be lucky to have a man like Clyde Logan.

There’s a shutter noise that stops Stensland mid-laugh. He looks at Clyde quizzically but sees a phone in his face instead. Clyde glances up at him over the phone, and then turns it around to show him. It’s a picture of himself, laughing. His eyes are a bit red, and his hair is a mess, but he looks happy.

“See? You’re cute,” Clyde says. Stensland grimaces, wanting to protest at the image of himself, but Clyde gives him a look that leaves no room for argument. He lets Stensland hold on to the phone as he starts the car again. “Do you want to keep looking today?”

“No, I…I don’t know. Take me somewhere.” Clyde drives slowly so that Stensland doesn’t have to move.

Stensland stares down at the picture of himself. Is this really how Clyde sees him? He said Stensland is cute, but all Stensland sees is a mess trying to hold himself together. He takes out his own phone. It has no service since he can’t pay the bill, but the camera app still works. He aims it up at Clyde.

“Clyde.”

“Hmm?” A moment later Clyde looks over at him, and that’s when Stensland snaps the picture.

Clyde frowns at him again. Stensland shrugs. “You took one of me. Only fair.”

The picture looks good. Clyde’s hair frames his face perfectly, the muscles on his arms are visible, his robotic hand grips the top of the steering wheel, and the light hits him just so that it looks like he’s glowing. It’s perfect. He’s perfect. He’s everything Stensland wishes to be.

Clyde the Condor. Strong, kind, broad-shouldered, soft-spoken, perfect Clyde.

Stensland sets the picture to be his lock-screen. It’ll be his inspiration to be better. He’ll learn to be like Clyde. Beautiful, caring, and perfect. Stensland knows he can do it. No matter how long it takes, he can do it.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, soooo chapter 4 is half done, and I think I can start getting these out a little quicker now that the semester is almost over. My big opera performance (we did Cinderella. I was the Fairy Godmother. It was awesome.) is over, and I'm not that worried about finals, so stay tuned! More is coming very soon!
> 
> On another note, most of y'all's comments have been about my characterization of Clyde and Stensland (but mostly Clyde). So, I've decided to start a little project on tumblr. Starting with Clyde and Stensland, I'll be posting character analyses of Kylo, Hux, and most Kylux adjacent characters/couples (given I've seen the movie/tv show they were in). It'll be a little insight into how I write, as well as a guide for anyone who feels like they need help writing one of the boys.
> 
>  
> 
> Come hang out with me on [tumblr!](https://www.aiambia.tumblr.com)


	4. Merry Marry Mary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stensland meets a girl, which Clyde is less than happy about.  
> Clyde hasn't confessed anything yet, which Mellie is less than happy about.  
> But Stensland finally found a job, and he's very happy about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "bud" is short for "Bud Lite", an American beer brand.

 

 

 

“Hmm, too much mango. Not enough rum.” Stensland puts the drink down and takes another swig of water. Clyde grunts and starts mixing another version of the drink.

They’ve been testing new drink ideas for almost two hours now and Stensland is starting to feel it. He hasn’t had more than a sip of everything Clyde has given him, but some of those drinks were strong.

Clyde puts down a new version of the mango, raspberry, rum cocktail in front of Stensland. This time Stensland hums an affirmation, and Clyde turns to write down the new recipe. That’s four new drinks to add to the menu so far.

“Maybe I should be a professional drink taster,” Stensland says. His face feels hot, but he doesn’t feel drunk just yet. “I could tour the world, rating different drinks, new and old!”

Clyde shoots him a concerned look, and Stensland rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I would get _drunk_. I know exactly what my limits are…as long as I’m the one giving me drinks.”

Clyde freezes as he reaches for the bottle of tequila. He looks warily between Stensland and the slew of experimental unfinished drinks to one side of the bar.

“Oh! Wha-no! You’re fine. This is fine. I just – I meant there was this one time. A few times. This guy Grady, we— _He_ took me out drinking. A lot. It was…well…don’t worry about it. Y-you’re not him. This is fine. You’re fine. Everything’s okay.” Stensland tries to convince him, but Clyde still looks uncomfortable and Stensland starts to feel a bit uncomfortable. Grady was…well, he doesn’t like to think about it very much.

“Maybe we should stop for a bit,” Clyde says, putting the drink shaker down. “I’ll go get us some food.”

Clyde grabs his wallet, and heads out the door, presumably to the diner across the street. They’ve been enough times now that Clyde knows Stensland wants the Chicken-Fried-Steak with sweet potato fries and a side of corn, and Stensland knows exactly how Clyde likes his bacon burnt.

“How domestic,” Katherine had teased. Stensland had laughed at her joke but Clyde didn’t seem to understand.

Stensland sighs as the door closes. As hard as he tries to be like Clyde, he’s still not as effortlessly cool. He’s not sure how Clyde does it. Even when he’s in weird situations, he handles it with calmness and grace. For as much as he frowns, Stensland rarely sees him actually angry.

He stares at the drink shaker behind the counter. Who’s he kidding, he has no idea how drink mixing works. He wouldn’t know the first thing about rating them. All he knows is whether or not he likes it. Maybe Clyde should be getting the opinion of more than just him.

The door chime clatters, and Stensland jumps to his feet, wondering what Clyde forgot. But it’s not Clyde. It’s a woman. The most beautiful woman Stensland has ever seen.

Her oak brown hair bounces just above her shoulders as she walks in the door, and her dress sways around her slender legs. It’s navy blue, coming down just past her knees, modest but not prude. The light cardigan that graces her shoulders seems out of place in the hot weather, but she handles the heat with grace. Her eyes are big and brown, her lips are a plush pink color, and her hands are so dainty.

Stensland is in love.

“Hello?” She says, looking around the bar. She hasn’t seen him yet.

Stensland stands up straight, smoothing out his shirt. Then, he leans against the bar and clears his throat. “Hello there!” Their eyes meet, and she smiles. Stensland’s heart melts. “I’m Stensland. Welcome to Duck Tape!”

She giggles as she approaches, and Stensland smiles brighter. “Mary.” She shakes his hand. “That’s uh…an interesting name for a bar. I don’t suppose I could get some food here?”

Stensland falters. Food was the whole reason why Clyde left. “Ah. I’m sorry, but we don’t really serve food here…yet. Bar technically doesn’t open until five and it’s…three-thirty, so the chef’s not here yet. But, there’s a diner across the street. Pop’s is the best in town.”

“Really? I guess that’s dinner tonight.” She smiles at him. “Thank you for the suggestion.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s no problem.” Stensland shrugs, trying to look nonchalant. “Are you new in town? You don’t sound like a local.”

“I could say the same about you.” Mary gives him a questioning look and they share a laugh. “But yes, I’m from Oregon. Portland.”

“Oregon! That’s quite a ways away. Why move here?”

Mary sighs. “I just…needed a change of pace.”

Stensland nods in agreement. “Ah. Get away from the city. Take it slow. I can understand that.”

Mary pulls at the sleeves of her cardigan. She looks towards the floor instead of Stensland. “Well, actually I came here to take things a bit… _faster_. I’m actually working at the Charlotte Motor Speedway. I start next week.”

“Oh. Oh! The speedway, right. What are you doing there? Hospitality?”

“Management. I’m the new head-honcho.” She laughs, a bit uncomfortably. “It’s kind of been my dream job since I was a kid. Making sure those races go smoothly, getting to talk with all sorts of racers and company owners. It’s just a dream!”

Stensland pauses. She’s in charge of the speedway. She’s the boss. She’s a professional. She likes cars. Stensland knows nothing about cars. Or being a professional. Or being in charge of things.

“What about you? What do you do?”

What is he supposed to say? She manages the speedway. She’s a literal boss. Stensland can’t just say he’s unemployed. It would ruin his chances forever! “I…I do freelance work.”

“Really? What kind?”

Stensland does his best not to let his panic show. His mouth opens and closes, unable to find a reasonable excuse. “…Photography.”

“Oh, I love art! Can I see some of your work?”

He’s ready to make some half-assed excuse about not having any equipment with him when he remembers the picture of Clyde on his phone. He brings up the picture and shows Mary. “Here. It’s the only one I have on me right now, but this my friend Clyde. I took this a few days ago.”

Mary stares at the phone with a smile. “It’s beautiful,” she says. “Even on your phone. The way the light hits him and the angle of the shot. This is just incredible! It’s such an intimate shot, and it’s…your lock screen?”

Stensland smiles. “Yeah! Clyde is…uh…my muse.”

Mary looks at him. She looks at the picture. She looks at him again. Stensland wonders if he said something weird. Photographers have muses, right? That’s normal. Then, Mary smiles at him, but it’s not a normal smile. It’s the weird half-smile, half-smirk that Maria likes to give him every time he and Clyde go to the bakery.

“Um, I have more pictures if you’d like to see the sometime.” Stensland says it before he can register what he’s saying. His heart is racing.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I’ll get some of my best shots together, and we could go out for coffee?” Stensland asks. “I know the best bakery.”

Mary is still giving him that look, but she tells him, “Alright.” She takes Stensland’s phone and puts her number into it. “Call me.”

“Alright! It’s a da-“

The door opens.

“Stensland?” Clyde says.

Stensland turns towards the door. “Clyde! Speak of the devil; here’s the big man himself!” He smiles at Mary, unbothered by Clyde’s frown. “This is Mary. She’s—“

“Leaving.” Clyde drops the food on the bar rather aggressively. His shoulders are hunched forward like he’s trying to look intimidating. When he turns to face them, Mary takes a step back. Clyde softens almost as soon as she does. He sighs. “I’m sorry to scare you, Miss. It’s just the bar doesn’t open until five, so I can’t let you in until then.”

“Oh no no, it’s alright. Totally my fault,” Mary says. “I’ll just go. It was nice to meet you Stensland!”

“I’ll call you soon,” Stensland tells her.

She turns to wave at the door and pauses. The half-smile is back on her face as her gaze flickers between Clyde and Stensland. Then, she’s gone.

Stensland doesn’t stop waving back until the door swings shut. “She’s gorgeous!” He exclaims. “Did you see the way she smiled, and how gracefully she moved? She’s like an angel walking the earth.”

Clyde doesn’t reply, busying himself with getting the bar ready for opening. Stensland sits at the bar and helps himself to the food. “I can’t believe I actually got her number. She thinks I’m a photographer. Fuck, she thinks I’m a photographer…well, I guess that’s not too bad. The picture I took of you came out pretty okay. If I just take more pictures then she’ll never know I was lying, right?”

Behind him, chairs clatter as they’re put on the ground. It’s loud enough to make Stensland jump and wonder why Clyde isn’t being gentler about it. “Cause there’s no way I can tell her I don’t have a job yet. Did you know she works at the speedway? She’s the new manager! She’s strong and independent, and I’m just…she’d never go out with me again if she knew I can’t even find a job!”

Tables screech as they’re dragged across the floor into the proper positions. There’s also lots of dull pounding that could be Clyde’s fists. “So, that means I have to take pictures. You’ll help me, right Clyde? I kind of told her you’re my muse, so I think that means you’re supposed to be in most of the pictures.”

Clyde comes into view as he steps behind the bar to start cleaning out the glasses they used for taste-testing. The cups look like they’re about to crack as Clyde cleans them out. They’re slammed down on the bar as Clyde finishes with them. Stensland didn’t notice it with his back turned, but every movement he makes is so forceful, executed with a powerful hand and tense shoulders. His jaw is clenched tight, making the veins in his neck stand out.

“Um…Are you alright?” Stensland asks.

Clyde shoves the glasses back into the cabinets. His mechanical hand grips one of them too hard, breaking it with a _pop_. Stensland jumps back, but Clyde stands there unfazed.

“Did something happen?”

Clyde pauses for a moment, then grabs a rag to clean the mess and the counter. The rag whips around as he scrubs hard at non-existent grime. He cleans the part of the bar that’s farthest away from Stensland.

“Was everything okay at Pops?”

Clyde pauses again, but he doesn’t say anything. When he resumes scrubbing, he scrubs hard enough to make his hair go flying.

“I have…You could at least tie up your hair, so you can see what you’re doing?” Stensland asks, offering a hair band.

Clyde sighs once, audibly, and he smacks the rack he’s been using against the bar. Stensland jumps in surprise, body tensing. Clyde throws the rag over his shoulder and stalks towards Stensland. He stops when Stensland is only a foot away and sits on the barstool next to him. Stensland shrinks back not knowing if Clyde was accepting his offered hair band or getting ready to punch him.

For a moment, Clyde just sits there. His chest heaves with angry breaths, his jaw set in a hard line and fist clenched against his jeans. Then slowly the frown on his face smooths into a tired, neutral look, his shoulders droop, and hand relaxes over his knee.

“You’ll have to tie it up for me,” Clyde says. Stensland can’t tell if he’s looking at the floor or him. “It’s a bit hard to do with my fancy hand.”

“Oh. Okay,” Stensland says, standing. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He considers Clyde for a moment before deciding it would be easier to do Clyde’s hair if he sat on the bar. Clyde turns without being told.

It’s odd to sit on the bar with Clyde between his legs waiting for his hair to be put up. At least no one is there to watch them. Not knowing where to start, Stensland runs his fingers through Clyde’s hair, pulling it out of his face. It’s soft and light, but also thick. Stensland is pleasantly surprised that it’s not greasy and oily. Gently, he combs his fingers through, trying to get rid of the little tangles and knots that have built up during the day.

“I’m…sorry?” Stensland doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, but Clyde is angry. What happened? What happened in the past half-hour that could’ve possibly made Clyde so upset?

“You don’t have to apologize You didn’t do nothing,” Clyde tells him.

Did something happen at Pops? Did they get his order wrong and he didn’t notice until he was on his way back to the bar? Did Mellie or Jimmy say something to him?

“But—“ Stensland protests. His hands pause. “—You’re angry and…” He trails off.

Did Stensland do something? Was he being too picky about the drinks? Should he not have let Mary in?

“…and what?”

“…and it’s my fault.” Stensland’s fingers fall from Clyde’s hair. Mary. He let Mary into the bar. For all Clyde knew she could’ve stolen something.

Clyde turns, glancing over his shoulder, unsure of what Stensland means.

“It’s my fault you’re upset, isn’t it? I let Mary in, but the bar is technically still closed, and you weren’t here, and I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.” It’s his fault. Of course it’s his fault. Why else would Clyde be mad? Pops never messes up orders, and it’s not like Mary could’ve done anything wrong, which only leaves him.

Clyde looks at him a moment longer, then sighs and faces away again. “That’s not it.”

“Of course, that’s it!” Stensland holds the hairband tight, trying to ignore the growing feeling of guilt in his chest. “Of course, it’s my fault. It’s always my fault!”

Clyde doesn’t say anything, and for a single terrifying moment, Stensland thinks Clyde will affirm everything he’s just said. Why wouldn’t he? Then, Clyde tells him, “Mellie called me while I was at Pops and said she couldn’t help me with the bar tonight. I was upset that I’ll have to do all of the cleaning and serving by myself, and I took it out on Mary. I’m not angry ‘cause of you.”

“…Oh.” Part of Stensland is so relieved. His hands are still shaking, but he’s relieved. What would he have done if Clyde was actually mad at him? His only friend, probably in the whole world, mad at him? But part of him also feels extremely stupid.

 Stensland combs his fingers through Clyde’s hair again to distract himself and picks up some of his fringe to start a braid. He goes slowly, trying to remember the steps his mother taught him when his hair was longer and she would braid it for him. Right over center, pick up more hair. Left over center, pick up more hair.

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” Clyde says, voice barely above a whisper.

Stensland messes up the braid, forgetting whether he was supposed to put the left strand over the center or the right. He sighs and combs his fingers through Clyde’s hair, undoing the braid. He starts again.

“Why should you be sorry?” Stensland asks, messing up on the braid again. He drags his fingers through the hair to comb it out and start again. “You didn’t do anything either.”

“I scared you. Made you think I was mad at you. Made Mary think I was mad at her. I would understand if you were mad at me.”

Stensland grimaces, making a face he’s glad Clyde can’t see. “What? How could I ever be mad at _you?_ You’re… _perfect_.”

Clyde is quiet as Stensland drags his fingers through his hair. But Stensland doesn’t mind. He just keeps combing Clyde’s hair, something he thinks Clyde is very much enjoying. His hair is so soft. Stensland almost wants to stay like this forever, relaxed with his best friend and endless drinks within reach. But the bar needs to open soon.

Clyde’s hair is too short to completely tie up, and Stensland has given up on trying to braid it, but he can at least put up the fringe in a small bun. He ties it up just as the door chimes again and Mellie walks into the bar. The first words out of her mouth are a greeting, but she stops short when she sees Clyde and Stensland. She gives them a flat look; the one that makes Stensland wonder if she secretly hates him.

“Aren’t you busy?” Stensland asks. That’s what Clyde said, right?

Mellie opens her mouth to reply, but pauses again, giving Clyde a questioning stare. “Layla said she’d cover my shift,” She says slowly, as if she’s not completely sure. “What’s going on here?”

“I’ll tell you la—”

“I met a girl and got a date with her!”

Mellie looks offended, almost. She folds her arms. “You got a date with a _girl_?”

Stensland scoffs. “Well I _am_ a man. I may not look like much but women still want me.”

“So, _you_ still haven’t said anything?” She rounds on Clyde, poking his chest with her long nails. “You told me one week. It’s been two months.”

“Not now, Mellie,” Clyde pleads. Stensland has half a mind to stand up for Clyde, but Mellie is scary enough when she’s upset. He doesn’t need her to be upset _at him_.

“Unbelievable.” Mellie throws her hands up and retrieves cleaning supplies from the “Employees Only” room.

“What? What haven’t you said?” Stensland asks.

Clyde looks more than uncomfortable, caught between telling Stensland and placating Mellie. Stensland decides not to push it. Clyde will probably tell him later.

Mellie emerges with a bucket of things and tosses Stensland a broom. She starts on the windows. “At least tell me you’ve gotten him a job.”

“Well…” Clyde starts.

To be honest, they’d stopped looking as often as they should have been. It was Clyde’s fault. As of late, he refused to let Stensland go job hunting for more than three days a week. Rest, he had said. Stensland needed to rest and relax. Also, there were only so many places that were hiring, and that list was slowly getting shorter as they crossed locations off the list.

“It’s not his job to get me a job,” Stensland protests. He can’t understand why Mellie keeps pushing Clyde around. Aren’t siblings supposed to support each other? Jimmy is nice enough, but Mellie constantly hounds Clyde for…well, Stensland has no idea why she’s always so exasperated, but she’s definitely not being supportive. “Besides, we’ve already looked everywhere. No one wants help.”

“Well, I don’t know why you don’t just work here?” Mellie asks, aggressively scrubbing the windows clean. “Clyde’s always begging me to help him out anyway. Might as well hire someone.”

“Ha, wouldn’t that be something,” Stensland jokes.

He looks to Clyde for affirmation, but Clyde’s gaze is distant. He nearly breaks another glass, freezing like he’s just had an epiphany. “Do you want to work here?” He asks Stensland.

Stensland is surprised. He didn’t think Mellie was being serious. He didn’t think Clyde would take her seriously. “I—seriously? You don’t have to—I don’t want to impose,” He says. “I mean, you’ve already been doing so much for me. You don’t have to hire me just because—“

“Take the damn job,” Mellie calls from the other side of the bar. Stensland clutches the broom, unsure how to respond.

Clyde thinks for a moment. “Can you cook?”

“Does using a microwave count?”

“Can you mix drinks?”

“Only if the goal is getting black-out drunk.”

“Can you…keep the bar clean?”

“I can’t even keep my own room clean…” Stensland looks down at the floor he’s sweeping. He can’t do anything. Even if Clyde really is willing to hire him, he wouldn’t be able to do anything. “It’s okay. I’ll just keep looking. I’m sure someone will—“

“Can you start tonight?” Clyde interrupts. Stensland is shocked into silence. Clyde still wants to hire him? “Even if you can’t do much right now, I could use an extra pair of hands so that Mellie doesn’t have to worry herself about it.”

Stensland doesn’t have the words. “I…but I can’t do anything. I-I’m useless.”

“You make me happy. That’s not useless,” Clyde mumbles, looking down at his feet. Then, louder, “I’ll teach you what you don’t know.”

A bright smile spreads across Stensland’s face. He has a job.

 

 

... 

 

 

            “And make sure that you don’t make direct eye contact with Debbie when you give her her drink, but do make eye contact afterwards and definitely make eye contact with her friend Jeanine. I’ll tell Hank not to give you too much trouble, but he doesn’t always take kindly to new people so if you feel uncomfortable at all just—“

            “Come tell you. Clyde, you’ve told me a thousand times and you just hired me two hours ago!” Stensland folds his arms and levels Clyde with a look that he hopes looks like Mellie’s scary stare.

If he had known that all it took to make Clyde talkative was working at the bar, he might’ve tried asking for a job sooner. Although, he’s not completely sure how worth it this is. Clyde is acting more like a mother hen than a boss.

Clyde sighs. “I’m sorry.” He hands Stensland an apron. “Just…worried is all.”

Stensland scoffs as he ties the apron around himself. “Come on, I’ll be fine! Do I look like I’ll need…help…with…” Stensland bites his lip as he tries to figure out what he just did to the apron string. “…Can you help me with this?”

Clyde raises an eye brow but leans forward to help him anyway. Stensland tried to tie the apron string at the front of his waist, but managed to make the knot too tight. Clyde pulls at it a few times, but when that does nothing but pull Stensland’s hips around, he kneels down to get a better look at what he’s doing.

It doesn’t seem like he’s getting much of anywhere, and after a minute, Stensland is ready to tell him to leave it and deal with it later. He looks down at Clyde, kneeling in front of him, and tugs gently at his bun.

“Maybe I should redo this,” Stensland muses. “It’s a little…” Stensland trails off. Clyde is kneeling in front of him, and Stensland’s hand is… Clyde’s face is awfully close to…Oh god.

Stensland knows he’s turning bright red. He knows he should feel mortified, but his traitorous body hasn’t had any close contact since Morgan. Parts of him are more excited than they ought to be, and it makes Stensland more than uncomfortable.

“A little what?” Clyde looks up at him, and Stensland has to look away. He feels mortified that he didn’t realize it sooner.

Biting his lip, Stensland dares to look back at Clyde, but all he sees are those dark eyes staring back up at him. He has no idea what he’s doing, and Stensland doesn’t even want to think about how it makes him feel. It’s awkward enough that his _boss_ is kneeling in front of him like this, but was his eyes always so deep and beautiful? Sure, he has amazingly broad shoulders, but his _eyes_. They’re just captivating. Especially when Clyde is sitting like that.

Okay, no. That’s weird. They’re not even…They’re just friends. Clyde’s probably not even gay. Southerner Americans are weird about that kind of thing, right? So, what does Stensland even have to be afraid of? It’s not like Clyde is going to just suck…Fuck.

Stensland squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. “Clyde, can you…I’ll just take care of this later, alright?”

Clyde doesn’t say anything, but he must realize it eventually because it doesn’t take long for him to stand as well. He coughs, like he was choking on air, and mumbles and apology. When Stensland opens his eyes again, Clyde’s ears are red and he can’t meet Stensland’s gaze. He takes a few steps back, mumbling something about drinks as the first customer of the night walks into the bar.

It’s a blush. Stensland stares after Clyde as the customer orders and more customers walk into the bar. How did Stensland not realize that before? Every time Clyde’s ears light up red, he’s blushing. Which means when they first met, when Clyde first offered to help him job hunt, when they go to Maria’s bakery, he’s always blushing. Hell, he blushes _a lot_ around Stensland.

“Stens. The bar. Orders,” Clyde mumbles in his direction. Stensland picks up his pen and note pad, but he can’t help glancing back at Clyde as he goes.

 

It distracts him so much that Stensland manages to walk right into his first customer. Literally. Stammering an apology, Stensland tries to regain his composure, but the man he ran into looks less than forgiving. As if the tattoo sleeves and unkempt beard weren’t enough to scare Stensland, his scraggly teeth upturned in a sneer certainly did.

Stensland has to take a breath to stop his knees from buckling. “May I-I take your order?”

The man’s gaze slides from the bar to Stensland, and his glare scares Stensland to the bone. He gives Stensland a once over, then sneers. “Who the fuck are you?”

Unnecessarily aggressive, but nonetheless terrifying. Stensland’s grip on his notepad tightens. “M-My name is Stensland. I-I-I work here. Now. As-as of rec-cently.”

“You Clyde’s new guy, or something?” He asks, sizing Stensland up like he intends to beat him up later.

Stensland tries to puff out his chest and be confident, despite the voice in his head screaming at him to run. “Y-Yeah. Just today he—we. Uh.” But it was just as hard to get the words out.

The man’s frown deepens and Stensland thinks it’s over. He’s going to get punched, and Clyde will have to fire him for his own safety. Just his luck that the first guy he serves is probably some hillbilly mobster with a taste for ginger blood. He’ll be in the hospital for a week if this guy manages to get a punch in, and he looks at least twenty years older than Stensland!

Stensland screws his eyes shut, preparing for the worst. Maybe if he’s quick enough, he can get behind the bar and let Clyde handle it. Either way, he just hopes he’ll walk out in one piece.

Then, the man lets out a roaring belly-laugh that fills the whole bar. “Greg! Connie! Look at this! Clyde’s finally got himself a better half! Can you believe it?”

Stensland opens his eyes, confused. “Um. I don’t know, I think he was doing fine on his own,” Stensland mutters, clutching the note pad.

“Well isn’t that something?” Greg smiles at him.

“Clyde, sweetie, I’m so happy for you two!” Connie calls across the bar.

Clyde looks up from the bar, looking puzzled. He looks to Stensland for answers, but Stensland just sends back a shrug. He has no clue what’s happening either.

The man throws his arm over Stensland’s shoulders and pulls him in. “Aw, you don’t have to look so worked up. I know I ain’t the nicest guy, but I’m definitely the prettiest.” He lets out another roaring laugh and Stensland laughs along politely. “The name’s Hank, and you can tell your man to get me a Bud.”

“Make that two!” Greg calls, fascinated by whatever’s on the television.

“I’ll have one of them lemonade cocktails, if you’d be so kind,” Connie adds.

“O-okay, two ‘buds’ and a lemonade cocktail. Got it.” Stensland writes down the orders, though he has no clue what a ‘bud’ is. Hank is much less intimidating when he’s laughing, but Stensland still shoots a hesitant look back at Clyde.

Clyde offers him a thumbs-up with his fancy prosthetic hand. Stensland snorts. Something about his stoic face and gentle reassurance makes Stensland feel warm. Before he can forget, Stensland pulls out his phone and snaps a picture. It’s perfect. The chaos of people moving around the bar and the shitty quality of his phone camera is canceled out by the glow of natural light and warm colors of the wood. Then, there’s Clyde, standing front and center like a Greek statue. It’s definitely one he’ll have to show Mary.

            When he looks back up, Clyde is still standing there, mechanical-thumb up, fleshy hand pouring drinks, but he’s frowning and his ears are pink. Without thinking, Stensland snaps another picture. But it’s no good. Clyde’s stare is a little too intense, and his blush changes the feeling of the whole photo. He can’t show Mary this.

 

            He’ll just have to keep it for himself.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now that finals are over I'm hoping I can get chapters out more quickly? But I'm not very good at doing that, so we're just going to see how things go.
> 
> Mary is...well, I imagined her as Mary from Murder on the Orient Express (played by Daisy Ridley), and then I realized that Domhnall was also in About Time where the lead female is also called "Mary" (but is played by Rachel McAdams). So if you'd like to put a face to a name, those are the two I've been going between.
> 
> In other news, I finished programming the user interface for a Kylux dating sim I'm making. When will that be done? Before Episode 9 comes out. Want to help me with it? Shoot me a message on tumblr. Need more information? The game will get its own tumblr page at some point....
> 
>  
> 
> [Come hang out with me on tumblr!](https://www.aiambia.tumblr.com)


	5. Cowboy Wolverine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stensland tries to take some pictures while Clyde and Jimmy help set up the county fair. 
> 
> It's hot. Like, really hot.

 

 

 

Stensland squints at the viewfinder. Looking back at Clyde, he motions for him to move a little to the left. Before he can lose the angle, Stensland snaps a picture with the nice camera that Jimmy loaned him.

“How’s it look?” Sadie calls from across the field.

Stensland sighs. “Still no good!” He shouts. Sadie runs back over to him. Stensland bends down as she approaches to show her the photos. “I don’t know why these are so hard to take. It’s just a picture.”

Sadie hums. “I think there’s too much light. And Uncle Clyde needs a better pose! I saw these models on TV, and they always pose like this.” Saide puckers her lips and looks over her shoulder. She pops her hip out dramatically with both hands on her hips.

“Is that how you pose for your pageants?” Stensland asks, amused.

“Naw. Mama says I looks better if I pose like this.” Sadie looks straight at Stensland though she faces one side. With her hands on her hips, she bends her knees and smiles. Then, she changes poses, raising her arms above her head. And once more, she changes poses, this time framing her face with her hands while puckering her lips.

Stensland laughs. And snaps a few pictures of her. “What do you think, Clyde? Think you can pull those off?”

Clyde comes up behind Sadie, making a reluctant face as he approaches. He lifts Sadie into his arms and she giggles. “I think he’ll look beautiful!” Sadie says.

“Do you really think so?” Clyde asks her.

“Yep,” Sadie says with a nod and a smile.

“Are you sure? You’re not lying to me now, are you?”

“I’m absolutely sure you maybe won’t look not bad.”

“And I’m absolutely sure neither of them know what you just said,” Jimmy says. Sadie giggles again, hiding her smile behind her hands. “Come on, you. Let’s see if Maria has some treats for you. Let the grown-ups work.”

Sadie gasps and wriggles out of Clyde’s arms. She runs off towards the heart of the county fair. There was still another week of preparation before the fair would be open for business, but Jimmy was signed up to volunteer, and Stensland figured it would be the perfect opportunity to take pictures before people crowded the place.

“How do they look?” Clyde asks.

Stensland sighs down at the camera in his hands. It’s a nice camera. It was really lucky that Jimmy just so happen to show up with it the day after he asked Clyde to help him take pictures. He wouldn’t have guessed Jimmy had the money for something as nice as this, but he did, and he said Stensland could use it for as long as he wanted. It’s just too bad that good camera quality can’t make up for a lack of photography skill.

“Still no good. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!”

They’ve been at this whole picture thing for almost a week now. Stensland swears he’s taken thousands of photos, but he only ever walks away with a handful of good ones. And most of them are taken on his phone when he’s not even trying to take a good picture.

Clyde scrolls through some of the pictures. “They’re all a little bright.”

“Can’t exactly turn down the sun…”

Clyde frowns. “Maybe you just need to take a break. You still have a few days until your date.”

“Two days! I have two days, but only five good pictures.”

“…Is…that enough?”

“I don’t know! I’m not actually a photographer!” Stensland sighs again. Maybe Clyde is right. Maybe he does need a break. Clyde definitely needs a break. He’s been such a good friend, helping Stensland take all of these pictures these past few days.

“But…yeah. I guess I should get out of the sun before I burn again.” Stensland follows Clyde into the shade, ducking under the awnings of the booths setting up for next week’s festivities.

He walks aimlessly, body following Clyde, but mind stuck on why he can’t take decent pictures. He has half a mind to just follow Clyde around and take pictures of him as he does things, but was reluctant enough to take the pictures. Stensland didn’t want to impose more on him.

“It’s pretty empty here,” Stensland comments, when they finally find Jimmy and Sadie.

Jimmy wipes sweat off his face, pushing a bale of hay aside. “Well, we’re still setting up equipment and buildings right now. Vendors will be here in a few days to set up their stuff and make sure they have whatever electricity they need and what not. Petting zoo people might be here tomorrow. But the carnies won’t be here ‘till day of.”

“Carnies? Like a carnival? _Here_?” Stensland asks.

“It’s just the rides,” Clyde clarifies. “Tea cups, ferris wheel.”

Stensland smiles. “Maybe I can take Mary here on our second date, then. You said it’s ten days long, right?”

“Only if it gets set up first.” Jimmy claps him on the back. “Why don’t you and Clyde help Hank with the hay bale maze? He should be unloading the hay near the entrance.”

“I’m going too!” Sadie yells, running off before anyone can stop her. Jimmy smiles after her, shaking his head. Clyde and Stensland follow close behind.

 

 

...

 

 

Hay bales are much heavier than they look. Stensland struggles to move them, hands and arms and legs all burning as he carries each bale into place. Hank and Clyde don’t seem to have much trouble, but they are much more physically fit than he is. Then Sadie, that little traitor, doesn’t even try to help them move it. She commandeered Hank’s map and has been yelling directions at them for the past hour.

Once he places his bale, Stensland walks back to Hank’s truck, all but collapsing in the truck bed. Sadie dutifully ignores him.

“How many have we moved so far?” Stensland asks her.

He listens as Sadie counts quietly to herself before answering. “One hundred and fifty-seven. We still need to move…ten…twenty-two…forty…forty-three more.”

“How many have _I_ moved?”

“Three.”

Stensland groans, wiping the sweat off of his face. It’s so hot. He knows his shirt is drenched in sweat, and not in a sexy way. “I’m not built for this kind of torture. I’m delicate! If I stay out here any longer I’ll be a crispy golden-brown.”

Hank laughs at him as he comes back for another bale of hay. “I think you’ll be more of a lobster red, son.”

Stensland groans louder as Sadie laughs.

“Well, how about a nice lemonade-yellow?” Connie asks.

Stensland sits up. Connie walks up to the lot of them with glasses of fresh-squeezed lemonade. Stensland smiles, eagerly reaching for a glass. The lemonade in North America was so different from the kind he grew up with in Ireland. Lemon juice, sugar, and water sounds like a strange combination, and he never really cared for the lemonade in Canada, but lemonade in the deep south was sure something else. Stensland’s whole face puckers as he swallows the tangy drink. It’s sour, sweet, and refreshing.

“How many has Clyde moved?” Stensland asks Sadie.

“Hundred n’ seven.”

“Wow.”

It’s intriguing to watch him. The motion of lifting and throwing the heavy bales highlight his muscles and strength. His technique shows off his skill as he lifts each bale like it weights nothing. And to top it all off, he had chosen to wear his plastic prosthetic today—so really, he was doing all that work with just one hand.

Clyde gives Connie a polite nod as he takes his lemonade from her, then downs the whole glass in one go. Show off. Reaching back behind him, Stensland retrieves Jimmy’s camera and snaps a picture of Clyde in action. It looks like a lemonade ad. Clyde steals his cowboy-hat back from Sadie. She protests and pouts, but lets it go without much of a fuss. Then, Clyde goes right back to work.

It’s a bit distracting to watch him. Stensland finds he can’t stop staring at his arms. Raising the camera, Stensland takes a few more pictures. They’re not bad. From beside him, Connie laughs. Stensland looks at her, curious, but she waves him away.

Stensland takes a few more pictures. Sadie helpfully tries to directions to Clyde to put him in a better position for pictures. He gets a few decent pictures of it. It helps that Clyde is just doing stuff instead of actually posing. Somehow it makes the pictures look more natural.

He raises the camera to take another one, zooming out to get a shot of Clyde from the waist up. The unthinkable happens just as Stensland snaps the picture:

Clyde takes his shirt off.

In shock, Stensland ends up holding down the button and watching Clyde undress through the viewfinder. He catches the whole thing. It’s not like seeing a man’s bare chest is anything new to him, nor is seeing a muscular man’s bare chest, but Clyde is on a whole other level.

He’s sweaty, but it’s sexy sweaty. Muscles glistening in the sunlight. He’s not waxed smooth, but he’s not he’s also not a bear. Though the only patch of hair really worth noting is that treasure trail leading down into his jeans. Jeans which shouldn’t not have been sitting so low on his hips.

“What are you waiting for?” Sadie asks, jolting Stensland from his thoughts. “Take a picture of him.”

Right. Pictures. Stensland raises the camera to take a few more photos, very glad that Sadie is too young to really notice and question Stensland’s sudden change in behavior.

Stensland can’t tell if it’s better or worse, staring at Clyde through the viewfinder. Because of how fancy the camera is, the pictures are still crystal clear, no matter how far he zooms in. It’s a little distracting, and finger might have slipped, taking a few more pictures than absolutely necessary.

Which is great because Stensland can also see _everything_. Clyde’s biceps flex as he lifts another bale. His pecs rise and fall as he breathes. The hem of his jeans shifts down slightly when he rests and puts his hands on his hips.

However, the best pictures are the ones when Sadie grabs his attention. Clyde looks over at them, right hand carrying a bale of hay, left arm securing his hat on top of his head. He starts walking towards them, looking like a runway model. Because he never smiles, his gaze is strong, unwavering, sexy even.

“ _Wow_ ,” Stensland says as Clyde walks up to them. “Just…”

And then, the rest of the words just won’t come out. Stensland knows what he _wants_ to say. “ _These pictures are good. You look like a GQ model! Why aren’t there more women falling at your feet when you look like that?_ ”  But he just can’t say it.

Stensland’s breath catches as those pecs stop in front of him. He grips the camera tighter to stop himself from reaching out and touching them. Clyde is just so distractingly attractive. “Moving it. The-uh hay. G-good work.”

“Pictures!” Sadie yells. “Let me see! How do they look?”

Stensland glances at her, then back to Clyde. He shifts uncomfortably, pants suddenly a little too tight. Nope. He can’t move the camera. There’s nothing else to cover himself with. If he shows them the pictures then they’ll all look down and his…

“How about we look at them later?” Stensland asks, hoping Sadie will just let it go.

She doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t. She’s eight and has no idea what she’s asking of Stensland. “But I wanna see them now!”

Stensland bites his lip, trying not to look at Clyde and make his situation worse. “Ah, but we…we should let Hank and Clyde finish moving the hay bales. That—you said it yourself, Sadie. There’s still forty-three left to move.”

“Hay’s not going anywhere,” Clyde reasons.

“The—uh—the-the best ones should be picked before you look at them.”

“How’re you gonna pick the best ones if you don’t let me help you pick?” Sadie asks him.

“Uh, by myself,” Stensland says, though it sounds more like a question. Sadie and Clyde both frown at him. The Logans sure are scary when they’re angry.

Hank laughs this time instead of Connie. He claps Clyde on the back. “Your boy’s right. We should get this maze done. Greg’s got more stuff for us to do.”

“As for you, young lady,” Connie says to Sadie. “I heard Pop is giving out free milkshakes to the first person who can say the alphabet backwards.”

“I can say the alphabet backwards!” Sadie lights up. She takes Connie’s hand, following her back to the fair booths, but not before giving Stensland one last glare. “But I still wanna look at them pictures!”

Clyde tries to say something else to Stensland, but Hank herds him off before he can get any words out. As they part, Hank winks at Stensland. “Bathrooms are behind the barn,” he whispers.

As mortified as he is that Hank and Connie _knew_ about his condition, they were life savers. Stensland runs off, as soon as Clyde’s back is turned, careful to avoid anyone on the way.

 

... 

 

 

The bathrooms are a lot smaller than Stensland would’ve liked, and they’re port-a-potties, but at least he gets to be alone with his thoughts. Though, he refuses to sit down. It’s honestly disgusting in there, but he can’t really go anywhere else until his _problem_ goes away.

“Oh, what was I thinking?” He mutters to himself. He wasn’t thinking. That’s what he was doing. He was just staring at Clyde. Damn it. Stensland managed to avoid thinking about the issue the last time it happened, but this is the second time in less than a week.

Why does this keep happening? Stensland would chalk it up to Clyde just being a really attractive guy, but he’s not just a really attractive guy. He’s Stensland’s best friend! It’s…weird. Even if it wasn’t weird, it would never work. They’re like Dawson and Joey, better off as friends.

Besides, a guy like Clyde would never want to date a guy like Stensland. Grady didn’t.

And like magic, Stensland’s stress is gone. The blush on his cheeks, the fluttering in his stomach, the problem in his pants; all of it is just gone, replaced with a dull ache in his heart, a reminder of something he promised himself he’d never think about again.

What was he thinking? He’s not even enough of a man to tell Mary that he’s not really a photographer, that he’s broke, works in a bar, and lives in a motel. Even if he did _like_ Clyde, Clyde would never want him back. Why would he?

There’s a knock at the door. “Stens? You alright?” It’s Clyde.

Stensland sniffles, not realizing he had been crying. “Um, just a second!” He splashes his face with some water, thankful for how hot it is. If his sunburn hid his blush, it should do the trick hiding his teary face.

When he opens the door, Clyde is, thankfully, wearing his shirt. “You sure you’re alright? You look…” Clyde trails off, but Stensland knows what he means.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine!” Stensland tries to smile, knowing it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s just hot, is all. You think Connie has more lemonade?”

Clyde doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it go, following Stensland around until they find Connie and procure more drinks. They end up sitting in the shade of the barn, side-by-side. Stensland chats away about anything and everything he can think of, trying to take his mind off of Grady.

“How are your pictures lookin’?” Clyde asks.

“Oh, pretty great! Do you want to see them?” Stensland starts scrolling through the photos, finding the one of Clyde drinking lemonade.

“I thought I couldn’t see them until you picked the best ones?”

Stensland freezes. He’s been caught. “Uh…well…I—uh—there were a few pictures that—that really weren’t appropriate for Sadie.” It wasn’t a lie. Those shirtless photos were almost porn. You can’t show an eight-year-old porn.

Clyde doesn’t look like he believes it, but as they go through the pictures he hums in agreement. He lingers on his shirtless photos. “Kinda wide…” he mutters.

“What? You look great!” Stensland says. Clyde looks shocked. “No, really. You’re all defined muscle glistening in the sunlight. Almost like—uh—a country Hugh Jackman playing Wolverine if X-Men was set in the Deep South. You’re just _ripped_.”

Clyde looks back down at the picture as his ears turn red. Stensland smiles. Now that he knows red ears means Clyde is blushing, it’s really cute to watch it happen. It’s probably the closest he’ll ever get to seeing Clyde smile.

“I think Mary will appreciate them. Heck, any woman would,” Stensland says. “Speaking of, you really are a hunk. Why don’t you have…”

Stensland trails off. Clyde looks…not happy. He stares at the camera without actually looking at the pictures. Somewhere in between being flattered by Stensland’s words and now, something happened. Clyde isn’t a man of many words, but there’s always an energy about him. There’s always much more to him than his frowns. He walks around like he’s carrying the world on his shoulders, but never once complains about it.

Stensland looks at him now and knows it’s become too heavy to hold alone.

 “Clyde?” Clyde sighs, turning away from Stensland. So, it was something bad, then. “Um…you don’t have to…we can talk about something else?”

“Scared…”

“What?”

“M’scared. That’s why I’m not datin’ anyone.” Clyde puts his head between his knees. Stensland isn’t sure what to do.

“Scared of what?”

“…Telling him.”

“Oh.” _Oh._ Clyde likes someone, and it’s a _him_ , and…Stensland doesn’t like the way that makes him feel. “W-well I’m sure this guy would be happy to have you. He must be…He must be great if you like him.”

It’s like he’s somewhere far away, alone and cold and dark. Clyde is right there, it’s sunny and warm out, but Stensland feels his hands shake.

“He is.”

“That’s…that’s wonderful.”

The words feel so hard to say, but Stensland doesn’t know why. Shouldn’t he be happy? If Clyde’s found someone, shouldn’t he be encouraging? So, why isn’t he? Why can’t Stensland say anything useful? Say something. Anything.

“Why are you scared?”

“I…don’t think he likes me.”

Stensland scoffs. How could anyone not like Clyde? This guy must be crazy! Any woman, any man would be lucky to have Clyde. “What? But you—you’re—have you seen yourself?” Stensland asks. “Anyone who doesn’t like you is an idiot. You’re kind, you’re gentle, you’re caring, you’re strong…you look like cowboy Wolverine. Maybe this guy isn’t that great, if he doesn’t even like you.”

Clyde frowns, which only makes Stensland feel worse. The question of who this guy is is on the tip of his tongue, but Stensland isn’t sure he can handle hearing any more about him. Which leaves him at a loss for what to say next. He wants to know who this guy is. He wants to help Clyde get the guy of his dreams, but just the thought of Clyde being happy with some guy makes his stomach churn.

So, he does the only other thing he can think to do. He hugs Clyde, wrapping both arms around him, holding him tight. “You know how you said milkshakes make you feel better? Well, hugs always made me feel better…or just touching me, really. It makes me feel like someone is there, like someone cares.”

Clyde shifts, turning so that he can wrap his arms around Stensland. It’s warm. Stensland sighs and holds Clyde a little tighter, knowing he probably won’t be able to have it again. This mystery guy that Clyde likes will take his place. He’ll be the one giving these hugs and drinking milkshakes. He’ll be everything that Stensland can’t be.

“Hey Clyde?”

“Hmm.”

“I…If it doesn’t work out—you and this guy—I just want you to know that I’ll be here for you. Always.”

“…I know.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I had more to put in this chapter, but it just didn't fit. Which is fine. I would rather the chapter be a bit shorter than usual than shove stuff in there and have it fit poorly or be too wordy.
> 
> I would also like you all to know that I recognize a good portion of your usernames. Every time one of you sends me an ask or follows me on tumblr it makes my day. Even those anons. Anything that makes it into my inbox makes me so happy. Thank you so much! 
> 
>  
> 
> [Come hang out with me on tumblr!](https://www.aiambia.tumblr.com)


	6. Dawson and Joey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stensland goes on a date with Mary, but she seems to know a few things that Stensland would rather she didn't and a few things he didn't know at all.
> 
> At least Clyde is there to pick up the pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to make a formal apology to all of you. I said this chapter would be up on Friday/Saturday. It is now Sunday/Monday. 
> 
> I'm sorry. I was procrastinating. It's no excuse. I'll do better.

 

 

Okay. He can do this.

 

Stensland stares at himself in the mirror, carefully slicking his hair back with a comb. Today’s the big day. Today is the day he finally gets a girlfriend. Mary’s going to love him, he just knows it.

He turns his head left and right, trying to get a look at himself from all angles. Damn, he looks _good_. It’s nothing fancy. Just a casual blue button-down, rolled to his elbows with his good white slacks. He looks like Grease Lightning, and he feels like a hot rod.

“Hey Mary,” Stensland says to himself. He bites his lip sexily. No. No no no, that’s not right.

He turns his back towards the mirror, then turns around, whipping his hair aside as he goes. “Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is _with thee_ ,” Stensland purrs. He grimaces at himself. It’s not _terrible_ , but his mother would be quite disappointed to hear him use a traditional Catholic prayer like that.

Trying one more time, Stensland looks down at his shoes. When he looks back up, he puts on a bright smile. “Mary, it’s wonderful to see you again.” He reaches out one hand, as if to take hers, then brings it to his lips for a kiss. Perfect.

“Stens, it’s 11:48,” Clyde grumbles from his bedroom.

“Yeah, yeah; I’m ready.” Stensland gives himself one last smile in the mirror and walks out into the bedroom. He spins around for Clyde. “So, how do I look?”

Clyde barely glances at him. “Fine,” He says, walking towards the door.

Stensland frowns. He jogs to catch up with Clyde as they make their way across the motel parking lot. “Are you sure? I know Mellie said something about hair, so I just dumped a bunch of gel in it. I don’t know, does it looks weird?”

“S’fine,” Clyde mumbles, climbing into the truck.

Stensland sighs, and climbs into the passenger seat. He watches Clyde as he starts the car and pulls out onto the road. He looks so tired. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Clyde doesn’t answer. He stopped answering a day ago after the fifth time Stensland asked. Stensland tried to get it out of him. He made the barn speech about never leaving Clyde once more, he bought him a milkshake that went untouched, he even invited him over for a smoke. Clyde never said a word.

It probably has something to do with his crush: The mystery man. He must have done something bad to make Clyde this upset. He’s not a man of many words, but purple bags under red-rimmed eyes means more than simply silence. It’s probably hard for Clyde to watch Stensland go get the girl of his dreams while he sits on the sidelines, waiting for his crush to notice him.

“I could talk to him?” Stensland offers. Clyde huffs. An almost laugh without the smile or the humor. “…Or I could—We could go do something? I’m sure Mary would understand.”

That gets Clyde to look at him. He stops the car in the parking lot of Pop’s Diner. Stensland can already see Mary waiting inside. But as much as he wants to go in, he also wants Clyde to be okay.

Clyde sighs. “No. You…go have fun on your date.”

“You sure?”

“…yeah.”

“…alright.”

Stensland smooths down the front of his shirt and gives himself one last look-over in the truck’s side mirror. He turns to Clyde. “How do I look?”

Clyde leans his head against his hands on the steering wheel. “Handsome.” Stensland searches his eyes, both for some sort of indication that he should stay and the boost of confidence he needs to go. He finds the confidence he needs, but there’s something with it. Something he can’t name.

But before he can get lost in thought, Stensland smiles and steps out of the car. He takes the folder of photos that Jimmy had printed for him. It’s now or never. Mary is waiting for him.

Stensland pushes the doors to the diner open. He smiles at Mary as soon as he sees her and takes a turn towards her booth. She looks stunning. Her beautiful chestnut brown hair is neatly curled. The skirt of her dress falls so elegantly around her legs, just below her knees like a modest but sensible woman. She wears low, sensible kitten heels in a brilliant shade of white to compliment her baby blue dress. The way the sun shines on her face makes her brown eyes sparkle with flecks of gold.

Stensland extends his hand. “Mary.”

She smiles as she takes it. “Stensland.”

“It’s wonderful to see you again.” He does a slight bow as he brings her hand to his lips. It’s so delicate and soft, with nails neatly manicured.

“We’re matching,” she laughs. Looking down at himself, Stensland realizes they are indeed matching. Blue and white. They’re like Sandy and Danny. The perfect innocent girl from out of town and the…well. He’s a “bad boy” in a very loose sense; a boy who is bad at things. It counts. Sort of.

“Oh! Yeah! That’s—Would you—would you look at that! We’re both looking quite dandy!” Stensland sits across from her. He notices how his word choice creates a furrow in her brow, but elects to ignore it. “How have you been? How’s the, uh, boss thing going?”

“Incredible! It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” Mary says. “There was a little resistance at first, but the boys come around eventually. You just have to know how to push them around.”

“Stensland!” He hears a voice call. A waitress approaches them. Katherine. “Oh honey, how’ve you been! You and Clyde haven’t come by in a while. Workin’ hard settin’ up that county fair?”

Stensland gives her a warm smile. “I’d say he’s the one doing all the work. My skin is too sensitive to be out in the sun for too long. Clyde does a good job though.”

“Well, I can’t wait to see the job when it’s done. In the meantime, what can I get you two started with? And when’s Clyde comin’ to join you?”

“Oh…um…” Stensland looks at Mary, but she doesn’t seem as concerned about this as he feels. “Clyde’s not joining us? We’re on kind of on a date.”

Katherine looks at him like he’s just grown two heads. She looks at Mary. She frowns. Clearly, there’s something more she wants to say, but Stensland’s a bit afraid to ask.

“I’ll take water,” Mary chimes in.

“Lemonade for me please,” Stensland says.

Katherine sighs and walks away from them. She didn’t write anything down, but she still brings their drinks out. She doesn’t say another word to Stensland, however. He’s not sure what he said wrong.

They made nice small talk about movies and the weather until their food finally arrived, and as they finished their meal, the date really started to pick up.

“So, um,” Mary starts. “What have you been up to?”

It hadn’t been long since they first met; just a little over a week. Thanks to Clyde, Stensland finally got enough money to start paying his phone bill again, and he and Mary had been texting back and forth for a few days. She didn’t text very much, but Stensland didn’t mind. He too preferred to talk in person.

 “Well, I got a part time job at Clyde’s bar. I still do the free-lance thing, of course, but Clyde needed a bit of help and I figured I’d lend a hand. He insisted he pay me even though it was supposed to just be a favor for a friend.” It wasn’t completely true, but Stensland couldn’t very well tell Mary he was unemployed. “Turns out, I’m a man of many talents.”

“Oh?”

Stensland scoffs. “I don’t mean to brag, but I’m a pretty damn good waiter. And those experimental drinks you saw when we met? They were a creation all my own.” Again, not completely true, but no one will mind.

“That’s amazing. I didn’t know you could mix drinks.” Mary shoves another piece of waffle in her mouth. Her smile isn’t quite a smile. It reminds him a bit of the way Mellie looks at him when he’s done something stupid.

“What—how’s your, uh, your job? What—what’ve you been doing?” Stensland asks.

“Planning, mostly, for the next race.” If she wasn’t glowing before, she is now. Her eyes light up as she talks about the race track. “They told me it would be easy: just fill out a few forms, send some emails, make some calls, and show-up day-of. But, then I find out that we’ve been _losing_ VIP customers because apparently, the last track manager couldn’t be bothered to look over the simple details.”

“Oh? What kind of details?” Stensland asks.

He really shouldn’t have asked. “—not _cost effective_ my ass! How hard is it to get the damn carpets cleaned?”

She really is cute when she’s excited about work. “—probably part of that robbery last year! I bet it was the seasonal cashiers that were hired, taking advantage of camera blind spots to pocket money and—“

It’s really a shame Stensland has no clue what she’s talking about. “—all because we don’t carry their choice oil and tires. I run a racetrack, not an autoshop! We can’t be expected to house every brand. Besides, if he wanted it, it should’ve been submitted in writing—“

At least she looks pretty. The way her eyebrows knit together is adorable. And her lips—oh her plush pink lips. She’s probably not even wearing lipstick. She doesn’t needed. She’s just so naturally beautiful. Stensland can just imagine those gorgeous eyes looking up at him as they sway together at their wedding. And her lips would fit perfectly around his—

“Stensland?” Mary says, waving her hand in front of him.

“Oh! U-um, yes…what? Sorry I, um, I didn’t catch that.” Stensland blinks a few times, eyes wide, trying to ground himself in the present.

“Pictures,” Mary tells him. “You said you’d show me some of your work?”

“Oh! Yes.” Thank god she didn’t notice him staring. He puts the folder on the table after Katherine comes for their plates. “I, uh, gather my best—the best-looking pictures. You know, just the ones I thought you’d appreciate.”

Mary helps him spread the pictures out. These turned out fantastic! Jimmy really did print the best ones.

“Wow,” Stensland mutters. Impressed by his own work.

“Hm?” Mary asks.

“Oh! Um. I just. There’s so many of them,” Stensland says. Mary frowns. Right. Real photographers probably look at all their prints first before showing them off. He should’ve done that. “And…I…I just didn’t think—didn’t realize that I had printed so many. Ha. Must’ve just lost track.”

Mary gives him a smile and picks up a few of the photos. It’s actually quite nerve wracking. She takes her time, observing each one of them carefully. Occasionally she’ll comment on a ‘clever use of depth of field’ or ‘beautiful poses’. If she hadn’t said she managed the racetrack, Stensland could’ve taken her for a gallery art collector.

“Well?” Stensland prompts, fidgeting with his hands.

“Well, these are pretty good,” Mary says. She puts a few photos in front of him. “You did a great job of playing to Clyde’s strengths instead of forcing him out of his element. The whole ‘farm hand hunk’ look really works for him.”

For the first time, Stensland gets a good look at the pictures he took. They look beautiful. Clyde looks beautiful. The full-body ones are nice, showing off everything that Clyde is, but the close ups are his favorite.

Clyde’s dark eyes stand out against the bright background. Stensland almost can’t believe how beautiful they are. He never realized just how clearly Clyde’s eyes spoke where words failed him.

_“Hi,”_ they said.

_“What do you need? What can I do?”_

_“I don’t understand, but for you, yes.”_

_“I can’t believe you’re here.”_

_“I lo—“_

“Clyde really is your muse,” Mary says, pulling Stensland out of his thoughts for the second time. “But I think I like these best.”

She spreads out a few shots Stensland managed to get of other people. Hank, Connie, and Greg, all sitting around their table at the bar, but it was a picture of their drinks instead of their faces. Sadie, in one of her many pageant poses, lips puckered like a little diva. Maria, showing off a baking pan full of fresh pastries. Mellie and Jimmy, laughing over drinks.

“Yeah,” Stensland says, smiling. “Those are pretty good too.”

He picks up the photo of Sadie, but what’s under it captures his attention instead. A picture of Clyde asleep on a couch. A cute family picture of Jimmy, Mellie, Clyde, and Sadie, all on that same couch. A picture of Clyde braiding Mellie’s hair, while Sadie braids Clyde’s hair. He didn’t take those.

Stensland digs through more of the photos. There are a few more he didn’t remember taking of himself and himself with Clyde. He knows when they were taken, though. It was the day before they helped with the county fair, when Jimmy introduced him to Sadie. They were all at the bar.

One picture stands out against the rest. There’s just something about the warm colors of the bar, the way Stensland’s face seems to glow as he laughs, eyes closed, hands cradling a drink. And Clyde leans against the bar, watching him, smiling.

Stensland has never seen him smile.

He looks so happy. Not happy because of some joke or something anyone said. He looks happy because of Stensland. His gaze is so gentle, admiring, cherishing. Even though he’s in the picture, Stensland feels like he’s violating some intimate moment between…lovers.

A hand covers his, and Stensland looks up. Mary looks sorry. “I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but I’m sure you’ll get through it. It seems like he really loves you.”

“… _What?_ ” Stensland is taken aback. His heart tightens in his chest. “I—no, what—I-I don’t…what are you talking about?”

Mary cocks an eyebrow. “I read the texts. You two are dating,” She says. “All of this was just—I don’t know—something to make him jealous?”

_Dating?_ Why does Mary think they’re _dating_? They’re not dating. “W-w-we’re not dating. Why…why would you…”

“You don’t have to pretend anymore,” Mary reasons. “I mean I know you’re not actually a photographer.”

“Wha—sure I am…” Stensland mutters. He stares down at the numerous pictures of Clyde. She thinks they’re _dating_? Why would she think they’re dating?

 “Like, your pictures are good, but obviously amateur. You shake the camera a lot, the ISO is a bit high, and I know you don’t have a website. I checked.”

“What would I need a website for?”

“A portfolio,” Mary says. She stares at him incredulously. “…Stensland, what’s really going on? I know you don’t actually like me, but you’re taking this fake date way too—“

“It’s not fake!” Stensland exclaims. “I-I like you Mary. You—you’re beautiful and passionate and lovely and…I-I-I don’t…Why did you…this isn’t a fake date!”

Mary is shocked into silence. She sits back in the booth, unable to formulate a reply. But slowly, she seems to realize something. “Oh. _Oh._ Stensland, I thought…”

“What?!” Stensland yells. They’ve attracted the attention of the whole diner by now, but Stensland is too upset to notice. “Why—what did you— _Why_ do you think that…I…we’re not _dating_! We’re just…Clyde’s just my friend.”

Mary looks so unsure. “I’m sorry. It was just so obvious I…I shouldn’t say any more.”

“Yes! Yes, you should!” Stensland pleads. “You can’t just—I don’t…”

She bites her lip, trying to keep herself quiet, but somehow Stensland gets through to her. “Clyde really likes you,” she says, taking mercy on him. Though she looks so guilty for saying it.

“As a friend. He’s my _friend_ ,” Stensland reasons.

Mary shakes her head. “He likes you, but he’s falling in love…and so are you.”

It feels like his heart stops in his chest. Stensland starts gathering the pictures. This is wrong. It’s all wrong. Stensland likes Mary. Clyde is his friend. They are friends. No one likes anyone. They’re not in love. “We’re not in love.”

“Stensland, the way you two look at each other—“

“Because we’re friends!” Stensland shouts. He stands and marches towards the exit, pictures in hand. “This date is over.”

“Stensland, wait—“

“Good day, madam.”

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have—“

“I said, good day!”

 

The door is too heavy to slam behind him, so he settles for jogging the whole way back to his motel room and slamming that door as he enters. He throws the pictures down, not caring where they land. None of them matter, anyway. Mary knows he’s not really a photographer.

Stensland paces around his room. How could she say that? He and Clyde are friends. They’ll always be friends. They could never be anything more than that. It’s too strange. He feels strange just thinking about it. His palms are sweaty, his stomach is flipping over itself, and his heart hurts; they could never be more than friends.

Then, one of the pictures catches his attention. The one of Clyde smiling. With shaky hands, he picks it up. Clyde looks so happy. Stensland’s never seen him so happy. They’re just friends, but they look like lovers. They’re just friends, but Clyde looks so in love.

Stensland throws the picture back down on his bed. Bullshit. All of it.

It has to be.

 

…

 

Stensland watches the clock turn from 1:30 to 1:31. Then to 1:32. Then to 1:33. He watches until it’s four o’clock and he knows he’s late for work. It should worry him more that Clyde hasn’t come by yet, or even called, but that’s okay. Stensland isn’t sure he what he’d do if he saw him.

At 4:05 he walks out the door, lost in thought as he makes the half-mile journey to the bar. He makes it there by 4:20, but pauses by the door. He could just go back to the motel, call in sick, and spend the evening watching Dawson’s Creek and smoking weed, but he’s not sure even that would get it off his mind. What he really needs is a drink, and the only place he’s going to get that is the bar. So, Stensland pushes the door open, bracing himself.

Clyde isn’t there.

He walks into an empty bar with a note on the door. Clyde is out getting supplies. He’ll be back before the bar closes, and Mellie will bartend in the meantime. It’s relieving to not have to face Clyde so soon, but the bar feels so empty without him.

Stensland gets to work, sweeping the dust away and setting up the chairs and tables. Mellie comes rushing in the door at five, right as Stensland finishes, still wearing her salon apron. Customers walk in right on her heels, leaving them no time to chat.

He appreciates the distraction. It’s a busy night, but it keeps his mind off of Mary. It keeps his mind off of Clyde. The liveliness of the bar is almost comparable to the monotony of having a smoke and watching Dawson’s Creek. Almost. But of course, it doesn’t last.

Clyde walks in wheeling a few cases of beer on a furniture dolly. The roar of the bar is drowned out by his heartbeat ringing in his ears. They’re eyes meet for only a moment before Clyde looks away, a frown on his face, bags under his eyes. What if Mary is right? What if Clyde does like him? Has he been jealous this whole time?

“Stensland!” Connie calls from across the bar.

“Yes?” Stensland makes a B-line for her table, grateful for the distraction. “More beers?”

“Stensland, why don’t you have a seat, hon?” Connie smiles, patting the seat between her and Greg.

“Oh, that’s awfully nice of you, but I have to—“

“No. I won’t have none of that. You come sit with us; Clyde can spare you for a few minutes.”

Stensland looks back towards the door, watching Clyde walk back outside with the dolly. He can spare a few minutes.

“Now, Stensland, why don’t you tell us what’s goin’ on?” Connie asks. Stensland frowns, not knowing what she’s talking about. “We promise not to spill the beans to Clyde.”

“I…I don’t know—“

“Now look, son,” Hank interrupts. “I know with your new high-tech phones, it’s easy to think you don’t actually have to talk about these things, but let me tell you this: Ain’t nothing can solve a problem like a beer and a good talk.”

“Tell that to your ex-wife,” Greg mutters.

Hank gives him a nasty look. “Why do you think I’m tellin’ him?”

“What we’re trying to say—“ Connie cuts in. “—is that it’s important to have conversations. You don’t have to have it with Clyde if you ain’t ready yet, but you should talk to someone about it, and we’re here if you need us.”

Stensland gives them all blank stares. “I’m…what are you talking about?”

“Your boyfriend, son,” Hank says. “Pretty obvious from the way you two been acting that somethin’s up.

No.

“Boyfriend? What are you—I-I don’t have a boyfriend!” Stensland exclaims.

Connie is kind, giving him a sympathetic look and a hand over his. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. Did you two already break up?”

This isn’t right.

“No!” Stensland yells. He stands from the table. “I don’t have a boyfriend! There was no break up! We weren’t—we’re _aren’t_ dating! Why does everyone think we’re dating?!”

The bar goes silent. Panic starts to rise in his chest with all eyes on him. Clyde chooses that moment to walk back in with more drinks. The crowd’s attention shifts to him.

“What?” Clyde asks, confused.

They lock eyes again, which just makes things worse. Stensland would rather be anywhere else, so he leaves. He marches out in front of everyone, trying to avoid Clyde’s gaze, but brushing past him as he goes. Clyde’s truck is just outside the bar, cases of alcohol in the truck bed. Stensland steals whatever he can carry and goes back to the motel.

His heart won’t stop pounding.

 

 

…

 

 

“Oh Dawson, you’re so handsome and perfect,” Stensland mutters, throwing another piece of burnt popcorn at the TV screen.

The first few beers he had tasted like tears, but the world seemed much kinder after a quarter of a bottle of whiskey and few hits from his bong. It really wasn’t fair great Dawson is. Stensland wishes he could be like that: handsome, popular, cool. Life would be so much easier. He wouldn’t have to deal with trying to get a date, or his dates telling him they don’t want him, or anything else.

“Stens?” Was that the door? Aw shit, he forgot to lock the door.

“Stensland, wha—“ Whoever it is makes choking noises as they wade through the beer bottles and leftover take-out on the floor. “Why does it smell like weed?”

Stensland looks up and sighs. Of course, it’s Clyde. Why wouldn’t it be Clyde? “Because I’ve been smoking weed…lost my bong though.” It’s somewhere in the room. He just put it down for a second, and suddenly the whole thing was gone.

“I see.” Clyde pauses. He makes his way across the floor, kicking a few bottles aside as he goes. “Is this where you’ve been for the past three days?”

“Three—wha? What time is it? Am I late for work?” Stensland leans forward, searching for his phone, which is decidedly a bad idea. As soon as he does, his head starts spinning, forcing him back against the headboard. “Fuck.”

“Three days late.” Clyde hands Stensland his phone, having materialized it from somewhere. “How much have you had to drink?”

“I dunno.” Stensland stares at the date on his lock screen. How did he miss a whole three days? He could’ve sworn he just started his Dawson’s Creek marathon. Stensland grabs the bottle of whiskey off of his bed side table. He tries to take a swig of it, but Clyde takes his from his hands before he can. “Hey! That’s mine!”

“Here.” Clyde hands him a milkshake instead.

Stensland doesn’t take it. He crosses his arms and pouts instead. “I don’t want that!”

“Stens—“

“It’s not fair! Can’t get a date, can’t get a job, can’t even fucking get a drink.” Tears burn his eyes, threatening to spill over. Stensland slouches over, trying to hide his face.

“…but…you did?” Clyde says. He sits on the other end of the bed.

“B-but I messed it all u-up!” Stensland hiccups starting to sob. He pulls his knees into his chest, leaning to his right as the mattress dips beside him. “I-I-I alw-always…”

Clyde’s shoulder brushes against his as he leans back against the headboard. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.” He offers the milkshake again.

Stensland takes it this time, sipping on it as he cries. It tastes a bit teary. “Aren’t you mad? I apparently missed three days of work.”

“Well. I am a little upset, but—“

“I knew it! You’re angry at me!” Stensland exclaims. “I m-messed up again.”

Clyde sighs. That’s never a good sign. “Stens, I’m not that upset. It was only a few days.”

“But you’re still upset!”

“It’s okay.”

“How?!”

“Wh…I was only upset because I was worried about you. But now I know you’re okay.”

“…but I’m not.”

“You will be.”

Stensland sighs, his sobs becoming sniffles. Feeling exhausted, he sips his milkshake, letting his head rest on Clyde’s shoulder. It’s really not fair. Clyde is so good to him, too good to him. Stensland doesn’t deserve it.

“Mary hates me,” Stensland mutters.

“What happened?” Clyde asks.

“She…I…” Even between the alcohol and weed, Stensland remembers what Mary said to him. “I lied, and she saw right through it. She knew right away that it wasn’t real.”

“But we took all them pictures…” Pictures that were…somewhere; In the bathroom, maybe under the bed, or probably just scattered around the floor under beer bottles and his lost bong.

“She—she saw right through me. She thought…” She couldn’t possibly be right, could she? He and Clyde dating? How ridiculous. It would never work.

Stensland feels something cold against his hand. It’s Clyde’s hand, the prosthetic one. He’s never asked about it before. He sets his milkshake aside and starts pulling at the fingers, extending them one by one. It moves of its own accord, just like a real hand.

“Can you feel this?” Stensland asks. He slides his fingers over the metal ones, feeling the hinges that act like real knuckles. It’s a beautiful piece of work. He can’t even hear the gears whirring as it moves.

“No,” Clyde says. “I remember what it’s supposed to feel like.”

Stensland holds his hand, slotting their fingers together. Clyde’s hand does the rest, fingers closing around Stensland’s hand automatically. Though its robotic, it’s gentle but firm; not too tight, but just tight enough that Stensland feels secure.

“Perfect fit,” Stensland mutters, admiring their hands.

“What did she think?” Clyde asks.

“That we’re dating,” Stensland says. Clyde tenses beside him. “Stupid, right? Apparently, _everyone_ thinks we’re dating. Katherine at Pop’s, Hank, Connie, and Greg, Mary. I wonder if Jimmy and Mellie think that too. Fuck, they probably do.”

Clyde doesn’t say anything, so Stensland continues. “I…so stupid; it would never happen anyway.” He watches as his tears fall on Clyde’s prosthetic hand.

“…why do you say that?” Clyde asks. He says it so quietly, so timidly that Stensland almost doesn’t hear him.

“c-cause… _because_ —” Stensland gets louder as he speaks, unable to stop himself from crying. “You’re big and muscular a-a-and kind, not to mention the hottest bachelor in town. Somehow you just know everyone in town and they all think you’re a sweetheart because you are, you—you waived my tab the first day I was here… I-I fucken skip work for three days getting fucken drunk as shite, which you-you’re only mad about ‘cause you were worried.”

He wipes at his eyes with his free hand. “You’re a big beautiful condor that everybody loves and respects, and I’m…I’m just Stensland.”

“But I-I do…I…I really…“ Clyde trails off. After a moment, he lets out a sigh. His hand disappears from Stensland’s only for him to pull Stensland in for a hug. “I think Stensland is great…and maybe he’s had a bit too much to drink.”

Stensland huffs a laugh. “My head hurts.”

They’re quiet for a few moments longer as Stensland’s sobs subside, then Clyde rests his head on Stensland’s. “Is this Dawson’s Creek?”

“Episode where Dawson and Joey break it off for good,” Stensland says. Clyde gives good hugs. He’s so warm. “It’s stupid. Writers decided they were better off as friends, but they were made for each other.”

“How can you tell?”

“The way they look at each other, like they’d never need anything else if they had each other.” Stensland yawns.

“You should get some sleep,” Clyde says. He tries to shift away, but Stensland chases him, trying to hold on to that warmth. He ends up flopping down on the bed as Clyde stands, and Clyde covers him with the sheets. “Go ahead and take tomorrow off. You’ll probably have a hangover.”

“You know, Mary said the same thing, sort of.” Stensland feels his eyes getting heavy.

“She…said to take tomorrow off?”

“She thinks we look at each other like Dawson and Joey do.” Stensland laughs to himself. “She thinks you actually like me or love me or something.”

Clyde hums, making his way back over the bottles. “Love is a strong word.”

“But do you?” Stensland asks, with another yawn. His words slur together a bit, but Clyde knows what he’s saying. “Do you like me?”

 

 

“…Goodnight, Stensland.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh the second half of this chapter was so hard to write. Like, I would write something, a whole scene, and then decide it didn't fit with where I wanted the chapter to end. But I'm happy with this. 
> 
> I also would like to know whether you all want the rating of this fic to go up or stay the same. I was planning for the very last chapter to get a little steamy, but I'm liking the T rating, so I might just keep it and make chapter 10 a separate story on AO3. It's still going to be written and posted, I just don't know if I should post it as part of this story or make it its own thing. What do you think?
> 
>  
> 
> [Come hang out with me on tumblr!](https://www.aiambia.tumblr.com)


	7. Honey, if you love me, give me a smile.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stensland finally has a talk with Clyde.

 

How long can he hide before it really starts to bite him in the ass? Stensland stares at the TV screen, re-runs of Dawson’s Creek playing though he’s not paying attention. His mind is too busy trying to sort out everything.

Maybe hiding away isn’t the best way to deal with this. He’d already missed three days of work, then he skipped another three on top of the day off Clyde gave him. He should’ve gone out earlier, gotten his life back on track. It’s just that every time he tries to walk out that door, he knows that there’s no way to be sure what Clyde will say or do. It’s terrifying. But his room is safe. If he just stays here, he’ll be safe.

None of this would be happening if his date had gone according to plan. Hell, he probably would’ve been able to go back to work if Clyde would’ve just answered his question. It’s the only part of those three days that he remembers, anyway.

When his stomach growls for the fourth time in an hour, Stensland knows he can’t ignore it. He looks around the room for any uneaten food, but the smell of days old pizza and Chinese take-out makes him feel a little sick. With a sigh, he hauls himself out of bed, making plans to go to the bakery.

Someone knocks at the door.

Stensland freezes, hand hovering over the door knob. What if it’s Clyde? What’s he supposed to say? What’s he supposed to do? How’s he supposed to talk to Clyde about any of this?

“Open the door, Stensland. I know you’re in there.” It’s Mellie. He’s been avoiding Clyde for the past week, so she’s probably here to rip his throat out.

“Uh, n-no one’s home!”

He can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Stens.” Slowly, he cracks the door open. Just as he thought, Mellie is standing there, hands on her hips, with the most exasperated look on her face. She looks him up and down. “Were you going somewhere?”

“Bakery.”

“Hmm. Alright, come on,” She turns, walking towards a bright blue sports car. Stensland hesitates to follow. What’s she doing there? What does she want?

Maybe if he’s quick, he can get on the bus before she notices he’s gone. As quietly as he can, Stensland closes the door behind him. Then, he dashes off towards the bus stop.

“Stensland!” Mellie calls out to him again. Stensland stops just past her car. “Come on! Clyde’s not here.”

“I-I’m good. No thank you!” He tries, backing away. Mellie rolls down the driver’s window and gives him another look. She truly is terrifying. It’s a wonder that Jimmy and Clyde survived growing up with her.

Reluctantly, Stensland sits in the passenger seat of her car. It’s nicer than he would’ve expected for someone who works at a hair salon but not unappreciated. Leather seats, spacious interior, manual gear shift; she really had the works done to this car. She and Mary would get along well.

“I got strawberry and vanilla. Take your favorite,” Mellie says, pulling out of the parking lot.

“Huh?”

Mellie gestures towards the cup-holders between them. Two milkshakes, one vanilla and one strawberry, sit in waiting. “It’s not exactly breakfast food, but it’ll make you feel better,” Mellie says. “I used to buy them for Clyde when we were younger. You know, he used to be a real hot-head.”

It makes Stensland smile a little. He reaches for the strawberry shake, already feeling a little better with just a sip. Then, Mellie speeds off towards the bakery.

She’s definitely going over the speed limit. Stensland clutches his milkshake for dear life, back pressed against the car seat, scared to move for fear that he will be thrown from the car. It takes too long and not very long at all to reach the bakery. The fifteen-minute journey was cut down to five minutes, but Stensland swears he saw his life flash before his eyes. The car stops surprisingly smoothly, without a lurch, leaving Stensland and his milkshake intact.

Stensland looks over at Mellie in horror, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she exits the car. It takes Stensland a second for his soul to catch up with his body, but as soon as he feels like he won’t have a heart attack from moving, he follows Mellie in.

Maria gives him a warm smile from behind the counter, but Mellie pulls him towards a table before he can walk over and order any baked goods. What does she want? Stensland can’t help but wonder. She sits across from him, laying out an armful of pastries, then taking one for herself. Stensland sips on his milkshake.

“So,” She says.

“…so,” Stensland echoes back. They sit in silence until Mellie finishes her empanada. Stensland does his best not to fidget, but it’s hard not to when Mellie refuses to stop staring.

“You haven’t been to work in a week,” She says.

“Ah. Yes. Um. You…you’re very right.” Stensland isn’t sure how he’s supposed to respond.

She doesn’t prompt him for a ‘why.’ She just continues to stare. “Clyde’s been worried.”

“Ha. Well. I, uh, hope I’m not causing too much of a hullaballoo.”

Her stare is deadly. “You’re avoiding my questions.”

“Uh…you haven’t been asking me anything?” Stensland’s stomach starts growling, but he’s too afraid to reach for an empanada.

Mellie shoves them towards him. She cocks an eyebrow. “You’re gonna make me say it?”

“Say what?”

“You’re an idiot, and you need to go talk to him.”

“Talk to who?”

“Clyde.”

“…Who’s Clyde?”

“…Stensland, I swear—“

“Okay!” He shouts, recoiling on instinct. “Fine! I’ll talk to him! Why are you always on my ass about this? What are you even on my ass about? I have no idea why you’re always mad at me!”

Mellie manages to keep a straight face for all of three seconds before she bursts out laughing. It only makes Stensland more confused. She kidnaps him, interrogates him, and now she’s laughing at him. What does she want? What kind of cruel and unusual punishment is this?

When she finally calms down, there’s a soft smile on her face instead of a frown. It’s a new look on her, and a bit strange for Stensland to witness. “Oh, of course you don’t know. Even after all of that.”

“All of what?”

“Clyde told me what happened on your date. You wanna tell me somethin’ that’s less of a drunk mess?”

“I…” Stensland can’t even begin to describe how confused he is. “First…first tell me why you kidnapped me and why you’re always mad at me.”

“Cause you’re an idiot, and at this point, I’m not sure you’re gonna understand all on your own,” She says almost immediately.

“Understand what?”

Mellie sighs. “Answer my question, and it’ll answer yours.”

Stensland still doesn’t get it, but there’s only so much he’s willing to fight Mellie on. “It was…fine. I guess. I don’t know. Mary saw right through the whole photography thing, and she didn’t even think we were on a real date.”

“And?” Mellie prompts.

“…And…and she thought Clyde and I were… _dating_.” Stensland puts air quotes around the word. “Stupid, I know. I can’t believe she thought that.”

“You really think it’s stupid?” Mellie asks.

“Um…yes?”

“Why?”

“Because…what does this have to do with anything?” Stensland tries to reason.

“ _Why?_ ” Mellie pushes.

“Because it’s stupid! I’m stupid! Clyde would never like me enough to date me!” Stensland hates saying it out loud because that makes it feel truer. It makes him feel worse. “Everyone loves him. He’s just the most perfect guy. Great body, great hair, great sense of style, he’s an entrepreneur who owns his own bar, he’s kind, he’s handsome, he’s caring, and I’m just…me.”

They’re quite for a moment, and Stensland is thankful that they’re the only people in the front of the bakery. “…I asked him if he liked me, and he said ‘goodnight.’”

“So, you like him?” Mellie asks.

“I’d never stand a chance,” Stensland says. He crosses his arms, curling into himself. “I could never be good enough for someone like him.”

“But do you _like_ him?”

Stensland has to pause. Does he like Clyde? It’s a question Stensland’s never stopped to consider. He’s spent hours thinking about how Clyde could never like him, but does he like Clyde? Does he smile just because Clyde’s around? Does he spend every moment he can by Clyde’s side? Does he feel better when he knows Clyde’s been worried about him?

Does that mean Stensland likes Clyde?

“Now you’re gettin’ it,” Mellie says.

“Wait,” Stensland says. What if Mary isn’t wrong? What if she was right and Stensland just never realized it? “What am I…I don’t…Does _he_ like _me_?”

Mellie smiles. “You’ll have to ask him that yourself.”

Stensland already did that. Clyde didn’t answer him. “Can you drive me to the bar?”

 

…

 

He’s not sure when Clyde will show up, but that’s alright. Stensland’s feet carry him inside and to the bar. It wasn’t that long ago that Stensland sat at there, crying his heart out over a woman he thought he knew. It’s strange to think that he could be sitting here crying over Clyde one day.

But Clyde wouldn’t do that to him. Would he?

Well, in the first place, they would have to be in love. Stensland would have to like Clyde, and he knows that he doesn’t. He thinks that he doesn’t. He’s not sure that he doesn’t. This doesn’t feel like anything Stensland’s ever felt before.

It’s scary, like the first time they met, at the grocery store in Vancouver. Clyde was all muscle, and Stensland had no idea what to expect. He was so afraid that he never realized how softly Clyde spoke, how gently he moved.

It’s comforting, like the second time they met, right there at the bar. Stensland poured his heart out to a stranger, and Clyde listened to every word. After being stood up by someone he thought he could trust, it amazed him that a stranger could care so much.

It’s peaceful, like the first time Clyde bought him a milkshake. The sun was warm shining down on them, and Clyde hummed quietly along with the radio. The road was smooth and the gentle droning of the engine lulled Stensland to sleep.

It’s familiar, like when they sat together, Stensland braiding Clyde’s hair. Maybe he messed up, but Clyde would never hold it against him. He knew he could tell Clyde anything, trust him with anything, and Clyde would never turn him away.

It’s exciting, like when they were setting up for the county fair. So maybe Stensland sort of thought Clyde was looked good without a shirt on. Maybe his nerves were on fire, and perhaps he just wanted to reach out and touch. Maybe there was more attraction than admiration.

It’s different. It’s frustrating to not know what to call it, but it’s not bad. Maybe Clyde can tell him what it is. He’s helped Stensland through so much already; what’s one more?

Wood creeks and a bell chimes as the bar door swings open. Suddenly, Clyde is there. Stensland is frozen where he stands, but all of his nerves are on fire. He can’t focus on anything but Clyde.

“Hi,” Stensland murmurs. This is a bad idea. He should’ve gone home first. Does he smell? Does he look okay? What if Clyde is actually mad at him?

“Stens…” Clyde says. He takes a careful step forward, like Stensland will run if he approaches too quickly.

“I’m sorry. I…” Stensland starts fidgeting with his fingers. Why did he think he could do this? It’s not like he knows what he’s feeling to begin with. How is he supposed to ask Clyde about it? “I’m so stupid. I-I know I’m like a week late for work, a-a-and you even gave me a day off after coming to check on me, and I just—I-I don’t even know what I’m doing. This…I…Everything has just been…”

Stensland can’t bear to meet Clyde’s gaze. “I’m sor—”

Clyde cuts him off with a hug. “Are you alright?” He asks. “I was just about to check in on you again.”

Stensland lets go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding and wraps his arms around Clyde. “Yeah,” is all he can manage to say. He nods his head, face buried in Clyde’s shirt. He hasn’t felt more relieved in seven long days.

“What happened?” Clyde asks. He tries to pull away, but Stensland holds on tight, unwilling to let him go. “S’okay. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“Can I…I just…” It’s a little hard to articulate exactly what he wants, but Clyde seems to get the idea.

“S’alright,” Clyde says. He holds Stensland a little tighter. “Not goin’ anywhere.”

Stensland sighs, letting himself relax. That’s something he could never manage with the women he liked.

“I’d offer you a drink, but I think you’ve had enough for one week,” Clyde says. Stensland laughs. “How ‘bout some juice? I’d offer you a milkshake, but I don’t have the fixins for it.”

Stensland lets him pull away, but follows him behind the bar. He hops up to sit on the bar. “Juice is fine. Mellie already got me a milkshake earlier.”

Clyde frowns. “Mellie bought you a milkshake?”

“Yeah. We had breakfast…well, _lunch_ at the bakery.”

“Hmm.” Clyde passes him a glass of orange juice.

“Yeah, it was a little weird. I kind of thought she hated me, but I think she was worried about me. She kept insisting…”

Clyde isn’t paying attention, or at least he tries not to look like he is. He busies himself with cleaning the bar. Stensland can practically feel the tension between them. Clyde knows exactly what he’s going to say.

“Insisting that we talk,” Stensland finishes.

“Well. We’re talkin’.”

Maybe this is just as weird for him as it is for Stensland. His nerves have him on edge, his mouth is dry, his palms are sweaty, and it’s so hard to meet Clyde’s gaze, but Stensland also can’t help but stare. If he really does like Clyde, if that’s what this is, it’s exhausting.

“You know, you never answered my question.” He tries to throw it out there casually, even though they both know it’s anything but.

“Did I, now?”

“Yeah.”

But now the words are so hard to say. What Stensland wouldn’t give for a drink to make this easier.

“Clyde.” He could just not ask.

“Hmm?”

“Clyde.” But then he’d never know.

“Hmm.”

“I just…Mary, she….I-I mean…do you—do you like me?” He needs to know.

For a long moment, neither of them breathe or move. It’s like the whole world stopped. Then, Clyde whispers to him; an answer Stensland could barely hear over the pulse of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Stensland says, because he isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say. “H-how, um, how long? Have you liked me? I—uh—how long has it been?”

“Day we met.” Clyde turns back towards him, though he can’t quite meet his gaze. “Thought you were cute.”

Stensland can’t help but smile at that. “Even though I was crying over some girl like an idiot?”

“I mean the grocery store,” Clyde tells him. “When you tried to give me your ice cream.”

“But that was months ago.”

“Gave you my number, hopin’ you would call.”

“I don’t remember that?”

“On the back of the receipt for the ice cream.”

Stensland didn’t even bother looking at the receipt. He just threw it away as soon as he was home. “You waited that long? You had no idea if I’d call. Or-or if you’d even see me again.”

“That’s why they call it: the man of my dreams.” Clyde looks up at him, finally. His ears are pink.

Stensland sighs. “You’re the dream. I…I’m just Stensland.”

“Well—“ Clyde stands in front of him and takes his hand. Though his voice is steady, Stensland can feel his hands shaking. “—I think Stensland is great.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Stensland’s face is so hot, but he can’t pull himself away from Clyde. All he wants is to be closer, to stay there with him.

“Now that I’ve answered your question, I-I would like you to answer a few of mine,” Clyde tells him. His voice isn’t as steady, then.

“Okay.”

“Do…you…” Clyde frowns. It’s so hard for him to get the words out, but Stensland stays patient, squeezing his hands for reassurance. “Do you…like me?”

That’s where Stensland’s smile falters. All this time, he’s been so focused on Clyde’s answer, on knowing whether or not Clyde likes him, that he forgot how confused he is about whether or not he likes Clyde back.

“I don’t…” Stensland starts, but he trails off as soon as he sees the disappointment on Clyde’s face. “No! I didn’t mean—I just—I-I don’t know! I…I _want_ to like you. I think. I…I’m sorry.”

Stensland buries his face in his hands. “I don’t know. Everything is just…It’s all weird. A-a-and different. I just…I don’t know.” He waits a moment. Clyde doesn’t say anything, but he also doesn’t move away. “…but I do know that you make me happy. You—I want to be better. Because of you. So, I…”

Clyde takes his hands again. “Well—“ his frown softens. “—until you can figure it out, would you…would you like to go on a date with me? Maybe we can figure it out together.”

A smile breaks out across Stensland’s face. “I—yeah. Yes. Absolutely. I’d love that.”

Then, the most amazing thing happens: Clyde smiles. It’s small, just the corners of his mouth curling upwards, but it’s a smile and Stensland’s never seen anything more amazing.

 

..

 

“—land…Stensland!”

“Huh? Sorry! Beers?” Stensland blinks himself out of his daze, finally looking away from Clyde.

Connie frowns at him. “Honey, you two haven’t been fightin’ again, have you?”

“Oh, no. No. No fighting. Just…” Stensland trails off, looking back towards Clyde at the bar. They’d hardly had a moment to talk since the bar opened, but Stensland is perfectly content to just stare at him from across the room all night, waiting for that moment when Clyde notices him and gives him that little smile.

“Stensland?”

“Sorry!”

Hank laughs. “Well it certainly seems like the two of you have been fightin’. But, uh, it’s the horizontal kind, if you know what I mean.”

“Hank!” Connie scolds, trying to keep the smile off of her face.

Stensland turns bright red. “What?! No! No fighting! We haven’t—I-I mean not _yet_ , but…why are you looking at me like that? Stop it! We just—we haven’t—i-it’s just a date!”

“A date that he seems particularly _excited_ for,” Greg says. He, Hank, and Connie all look too amused for their own good.

“Yes. I mean no! I mean…stop teasing me…”

 “Oh, we’re just happy for you, hon,” Connie says. “It’s nice to see you boys getting along again. Now, why don’t you go get me another one of them cosmos, and keep a careful eye on Clyde. Make sure he mixes it properly.”

She gives him a wink. They all laugh again, but Stensland can’t be angry at them. Not when they’re giving him an excuse to be closer to Clyde. Stensland tries his best not to look too excited, but he’s sure the whole bar can tell that he and Clyde have been staring at each other all night. Clyde keeps glancing up at him as he gets closer until only the bar separates them.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I…uh, cosmo. Connie wants a cosmo.”

Clyde nods, lingering for a moment before focusing on making the drink. Stensland fidgets as he waits, trying to figure out if it’s normal for him to be so smile-y.

“Here you go,” Clyde says, passing him the drink.

“Thanks.”

“’Course.”

“Um…I’ll see you, then.”

Clyde smiles, lingering again, before going back to the other bar patrons.

“Oh my god,” Mellie groans. Stensland jumps. He didn’t realize she was right beside him. Has she been there the whole time?

“What?”

She gives him a pointed look, but there’s a smile attached to it. “Nothing.” Stensland frowns, and she rolls her eyes. “Go deliver your drinks. It’s nothing.”

Stensland goes, but he knows it’s not nothing. He’s got a date with Clyde, and that’s not nothing. That’s something he can’t wait for.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so sweet, my teeth are rotting.
> 
> You know, this was supposed to be my one-and-done clydeland fic. I thought this was going to be it, cause I wasn't _that_ into the ship. But then I got a tumblr ask about an arranged marriage au, and I started writing it, and damn it you're all getting some psuedo-western arranged marriage abo clydeland au soon.
> 
>  
> 
> [Come hang out with me on tumblr!](https://www.aiambia.tumblr.com)


	8. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief interlude, featuring the Logan siblings.

 

 

Mellie is absolutely furious. “I can’t believe you.” She keeps her voice low, so Clyde knows just how upset she is. “ _Months_. It has been months.”

“Mellie…” Clyde complains.

She pulls the tie around his neck into a knot, dragging him down to her height. “Your brother and I spent _so much time_ trying to help you.”

“But Mellie—“

“I don’t wanna hear it!” She shouts. She pulls the knot tighter, then straightens it out. “Jimmy got you that camera, I’ve been doing shifts at the bar, Jimmy helped you with job hunting. We did all of that, and how do you thank us?”

“Mel—“

“You waited until _he asked you_ if you like him to tell him!” She yanks on the tie again. “You had countless opportunities to tell that boy how you feel, and you _waited!_ You are so damn lucky his date with that girl didn’t work out. You are _so damn lucky_ he had the brains to ask you, ‘cause Lord knows you weren’t gonna tell him yourself.”

“…Mellie…”

“What?!”

Clyde, awkwardly bent down, tugs at the tie around his neck. “T-too tight,” he chokes out.

“Oh. Sorry.” Mellie hurries to undo her work, loosening the tie until her brother can breathe. But then it doesn’t look right. “Maybe we should do a bow tie…or just skip the tie altogether.”

“Mellie, you don’t have to worry.”

Mellie scoffs. “I’m not _worried,_ ” She says, removing the tie. He looks better without it. Clyde gives her the same look she always gives him when he’s said something stupid. “Do I look worried to you?”

Clyde sighs. “I guess no—“

“Yes!” Jimmy calls from the kitchen. “She’s very worried!”

Mellie casts a glare over her shoulder. “Go back to your bacon!” She turns back to Clyde, doing her best to make her glare look scary when she sees him smiling. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say nothin’”

“You were thinkin’ it.” She smacks his shoulder and pushes him towards the door. “Now go pick up your man before he worries himself to death. Mary told me he put a whole bottle of gel in his hair for their date, and I don’t want to give him the opportunity to do that again.”

“Alright, I’m goin’,” Clyde grumbles. He turns around just before he walks out the door. “Thank you, Mellie. Love you.”

“You better.” Mellie smiles. “Now, go.” Though she said she wasn’t worried, she watches him leave through the window until his truck is just a light in the distance.

Jimmy pops out of the kitchen. “Is he gone?”

“Yep.” Mellie grabs her keys as she and Jimmy head out the door.

“Joe, we’re good to go,” Jimmy says into his phone. “The condor has left the nest. I repeat, the condor has left the nest.”

 _“We’ll need another hour,”_ Joe tells him. _“But we should be ready before dinner. Just make sure your boy gets to the ferris wheel on time.”_

“Alright. Will do. Thanks, Joe.”

_“Say hi to Mellie for me.”_

Mellie rolls her eyes, and shakes her head.

“Uh, sure.”

“Can’t believe we’re actually doin’ this,” Mellie mutters as soon as Jimmy hangs up the phone.

“It was your idea,” Jimmy says.

“I know…You got the lights?”

“Yep.”

“And the music?”

“Does Stens really like Billy Ocean? Of all things?”

“Do you have it?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Good.” Mellie takes a breath to calm herself.

“Don’t have to be so worked up. It’s not even your date,” Jimmy says.

Mellie scoffs. “Says you. What’s that, your third milkshake tonight? You know what the doctor said about your blood sugar.”

Jimmy frowns and puts the cup back in the car’s cup holder. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is that he’s gonna be fine. Clyde’s a grown man who’s very capable of taking care of himself. There’s absolutely no need to worry about him.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

“You kind of did.” Mellie sighs. “You think we’re doin’ too much?”

“Are you askin’ if I think planning Clyde’s entire date behind his back to make sure it goes off without a hitch is too much? Yeah. I think it is.”

“Then why are we doin’ it?”

Jimmy smiles and takes another sip of his milkshake. “’Cause he’s our stupid kid brother.”

“Stupid is right,” Mellie mutters. “Must be a Logan thing.”

“He’ll be fine,” Jimmy tries to reassure her, but she can’t tell if he’s talking to her or to himself.

“He’ll be fine,” Mellie echoes.

“I mean, he’s got us, right?”

“Hmm, that sounds more like a threat than a comfort.”

“We’re not that bad.”

“ _I’m_ not that bad.”

“Excuse you! I’ll have you know, I’m an excellent brother.”

“Of course you are.”

“Mellie!”

Mellie laughs. Yeah. With them looking out for him, Clyde will be just fine.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was too cute not to include.
> 
> Do note that this interlude throws off the AO3 chapter count. Chapter 10 will be written, but it will be listed as a separate "story" on AO3 because of its explicit rating. Don't worry. It'll be posted at the same time as chapter 9 so y'all don't have to keep checking back to see if I've updated with it yet.   
> TL;DR, What AO3 says is Chapter 10 of this story is actually chapter 9, and chapter 10 (rated E) will be linked in the end notes.
> 
> Chapter 8 will be out before Friday. The exact date depends on whether or not I get distracted with working on the arranged marriage abo clydeland fic I was talking about.
> 
>  
> 
> [Come hang out with me on tumblr!](https://www.aiambia.tumblr.com)


	9. A Picture Perfect Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clyde finally gets to take Stensland out on a date, but how well will it go? Stensland won't mess everything up again, will he?

 

 

Okay. He can do this.

Stensland stares at himself in the mirror, but hesitates to reach for the comb. His hair looks fine, doesn’t it? He has yet to use any gel, but slicking it back with just water looks decent. But will Clyde like it? Maybe. Probably. He’s never complained about Stensland’s hair before.

He turns his head left and right, trying to get a look at himself from all angles. But maybe it’s his clothes that are the issue, not his hair. The t-shirt and shorts feel far too casual, but he’s already tried on ten different outfits. Still, he changes shirts yet again to a short sleeve button down. But now his hair looks all wrong. Frustrated, Stensland scrubs his hands through his hair until it looks as messy as it usually does, but that looks wrong too.

No matter what he does, none of this feels right. None of it feels good enough, and Clyde deserves more than just good enough.

Stensland sighs and rests his head against the mirror. His heart has been beating like crazy since Clyde asked him out, and Stensland hasn’t been able to make it stop. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much, he can’t rely on his knees to keep him upright anymore, and his nerves haven’t left him alone for a moment. Stensland’s not quite sure what’s wrong with him. His pre-date jitters have _never_ been this bad.

Then again, Clyde’s not just another date. He’s not someone Stensland just met. He’s not a dainty damsel that Stensland can swoop in and save. He’s not anything like anyone Stensland’s ever met. He’s more.

Then, there’s a knock at the door.

“Shit—Just a moment!” Stensland calls. He looks at himself one more time. “You can do this. You’re a big beautiful condor, and Clyde is going to love you…well, he already kind of does, but he’s going to love you even more! Okay. Okay…You can do this. _I_ can do this.”

There’s more knocking.

“Coming!” His hair looks like shit and his outfit is all wrong, but there’s no time to change it. Leave it to Clyde to show up at six o’clock on the dot. Stensland runs to the door. He takes a deep breath – here goes nothing – and pulls it open.

All other thoughts are gone as soon as he sees Clyde. Stensland almost forgets to breathe.

“Uh, hi,” Clyde says. He has a smile on his face, the little one Stensland’s been seeing every time Clyde looks at him.

“Hi.” Stensland’s face heats up. They haven’t done anything yet.

“I brought you some flowers.” Clyde pulls out a bouquet from behind his back.

Stensland smiles. Clyde brought him roses. No one’s ever brought him flowers before, let alone a bouquet of roses. “Thank you,” he says. Their hands brush as Stensland takes the bouquet. His skin tingles where Clyde touched him, even though it was only for a moment.

“So, we should, um, w-we should get goin’,” Clyde says.

“Oh. Yes! Right. Our date. We should, uh, go do that.” Stensland blinks a few times, not realizing he had been staring. “Uh, vase. I should—the flowers…”

Stensland turns around himself, looking for a vase, or something to put the flowers in.

Clyde’s smile falters. “Oh, right…I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that.”

“No! No, it’s fine.” Stensland put the bouquet on his bed. He can deal with it after their date. “I can find something for it later.”

“Oh. A-alright then.”

“Yeah.”

“So…we should go.”

“Yes! Going. We should do that.”

For some reason, the ride over is practically silent. As hard as Stensland tries, anything he thinks of sounds too stupid to be said aloud. He resigns himself to looking out the window, trying to keep himself calm.

“Um…how’ve you been?” Clyde asks.

“Oh, me? I-I’m good. Great! I’ve been…I’ve been great,” Stensland lies. The past few days have been like heaven and hell, wondering, imagining how this date might go. “How have you been?”

“Alright.”

“Alright.” Stensland wants to kick himself for not having anything better to say. This date needs to go well. It can’t be like all of the other dates he’s ever been on. It can’t end the night in frustration and tears. But what if Clyde decides he’s just not worth it?

Stensland stares at Clyde, trying to look without him noticing. Clyde notices almost immediately. A blush makes its way to Stensland’s cheeks, but not before Clyde can give him another smile. It makes Stensland’s chest feel warm, and his cheeks warmer.

They pull to a halt, sooner than Stensland thought they would. Their destination is unmistakable, and it makes Stensland smile.

 “The county fair?” Stensland asks. He hadn’t seen any more of it since they went to help set up. With all of the booths and rides set up, it looks like a picture-perfect date spot.

“I know you haven’t had a chance to come, so I thought you’d like to come with me,” Clyde says. His ears turn pink, which only makes Stensland smile wider. They head to a ticket booth, where Clyde insists on paying for wristbands to get them onto rides and tickets for food and games. “Where’d you like to go first?”

_Wherever you want_ , is on the tip of Stensland’s tongue, but he swallows the words with a nervous smile. He needs to make this date good, but he can’t decide where to go. So, he points in a random direction. “How about over there.”

“Alright, ring toss it is,” Clyde says. Stensland trails close behind him as Clyde walks ahead.

The game manager greets them with a cheerful smile, handing them a small basket full of rings as Clyde gives him a few tickets. Stensland takes a ring and stares at it apprehensively. He was never good at these kinds of games. He tosses the ring towards the row of bottles and watches as it bounces, clinks, and then lands in a space between the bottles instead of on them. Stensland sighs. Apparently, he’s still not very good at them.

Clyde and Stensland keep tossing rings, but still can’t find much to say to each other. Music fills the space between them, playing over the speakers throughout the fair. Once all of the rings have been tossed, they go to another game booth, then another and another until Stensland starts to wonder why he can’t think of anything to say.

It was never hard to strike up a conversation with Clyde before. It’s never been hard for Stensland to talk to anyone, period, but today he can’t find the words. With a sigh, Stensland half-heartedly throws his baseball at the milk bottles a few feet away. He misses left.

“You alright?” Clyde asks. He throws his baseball, knocking down the tower of bottles with a loud crash.

“Yeah,” Stensland says, trying to smile. “I guess I’m just not very good at these games.”

“Not that hard,” Clyde says. He takes another baseball, and pulls his arm back. “Just put your feet like this and follow through on the throw.” He throws the ball, knocking down another tower of bottles.

Stensland watches, trying to focus on what Clyde’s doing instead of lamenting how he’ll never be as strong as muscle-y as Clyde. He picks up another baseball, and tries to position himself. It doesn’t quite feel right. Clyde hums disapprovingly and gently pulls his arm down.

“Turn your feet a little less, and your arm…Hold on.” Clyde comes up behind him, gently maneuvering Stensland into the proper position. “Just like this.”

Stensland doesn’t hear anything else he says. He’s too focused on Clyde’s chest pressed against his back, the cold metal of Clyde’s prosthetic hand against his arm, and the warmth of Clyde’s hand covering his own. If he turns his head over his shoulder, Clyde is right there. His breath tickles Stensland’s ears.

“…then you throw.” Stensland is hardly aware of what he’s doing but throws the ball as Clyde guides his arm. With a loud crash, the baseball knocks over the tower of bottles.

“I…I did it? I did it!” Stensland smiles, unable to contain his excitement.

“You sure did,” Clyde says. He smiles as well, and it feels like the world stopped. It’s mesmerizing, and Stensland has to force himself to look away, less they stand there for the entire evening. “Try it again.”

Stensland picks up another ball and throws it, but he misses. He picks up the next one, and positions himself once more, but Clyde stops him before he can throw it. “Remember to angle your hips and shoulders. Like this,” He says. Gently, he moves Stensland’s shoulders, and then his hips. Stensland’s heart is beating so hard it could pop out of his chest. “Now throw.”

Stensland throws the ball, and it knocks over another bottle tower. He smiles again, but hesitates when he picks up the last ball. “You know,” Stensland says, fidgeting with the ball. ”I throw a lot better when you help me.”

Not-so-innocently, Stensland glances at Clyde and then back at the ball. Clyde smiles, then he laughs. Stensland has never heard him _laugh_. “Alright. Make sure you follow through on the throw this time.”

Clyde slots himself against Stensland again. With his hand covering Stensland’s, they practice the throw a few times, lingering against each other. Finally, they throw the ball, knocking down a third tower of bottles. Excited, Stensland twists around in Clyde’s arms, smiling with him. It’s perfect—more than perfect—and then they’re interrupted.

“And that makes three bullseyes!” The game manager yells. There’s an amused look on his face, but he makes no comment. A few of the other fair-goers applaud them as the game manager hands them a prize-voucher.

“Let’s try the other games again,” Stensland suggests. His mind swirls with fantasies of himself in Clyde’s arms.

“Alright,” Clyde says.

He heads off in one direction, but Stensland takes his hand and pulls him the other way. “No, the ring toss first!”

Clyde laughs and follows him. He squeezes Stensland’s hand, and Stensland tries to hide his blush.  

“Cute,” Clyde mutters.

It only makes Stensland blush harder. Cute? He’s not _cute_. He almost protests, telling Clyde that, but his stomach speaks before his mouth can. “Maybe we should get something to eat first,” Stensland says.

Clyde pulls them over to the food booths, choosing the one that looks least crowded, which just so happens to be run by Maria. She waves them over as they approach.

“Hola mijos! Stensland, we didn’t get to talk the last time you were at the bakery,” Maria complains. She gives Clyde a stern look. “That sister of yours wanted him all to herself. You better watch yourself, or she’ll snatch him right up!”

“Ah, no chance of that, I’m sure,” Clyde says. He squeezes Stensland’s hand again, and Stensland tries not to smile so brightly.

“What are you selling?” Stensland asks.

Maria sighs. “I’m sorry, Stensland. I’m afraid I’ve sold out of almost everything.”

“Really?”

“Yes, everyone just came and snatched up all of my best treats. If I had known you were coming, I would’ve saved you some.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. Are you sure there isn’t…Maria?” She’s distracted. Something behind Stensland catches her eye. She nods. Stensland and Clyde both turn to see what it is, but all Stensland sees is the other food booths.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Maria apologizes quickly, drawing their attention back to her. “Just thought I saw someone I knew. Anyway, I’m afraid all I have left is the cotton candy machine. And some cauliflower.”

“Uh, that’s alright. We’ll take one cotton candy,” Stensland says. He fishes out a few tickets to pay for it. Clyde looks as perplexed as Stensland feels. Why would Maria be selling cauliflower when she runs a bakery? Is it raw? That’s weird.

“One to share?” Maria teases. “You two have fun now!”

“Thank you, Maria!” Stensland takes the cotton candy in one hand, and Clyde in the other.

“So, back to the ring toss?” He asks Clyde. The cotton candy is delicious, though he has a bit of trouble trying to eat it one-handed.

“Um, yeah. Ready when you are.” Clyde takes one apprehensive look at the crowd and sighs. Oh no.

“What?” Stensland asks. Oh no, this can’t be happening.

“It’s nothing.” It’s not nothing. It’s never nothing. Damn it, and their date was going so well too!

“A-are you sure? We don’t—I mean, we can do something else. If you want.” Stensland holds Clyde’s hand a little tighter. His prosthetic hand can’t feel Stensland’s fear, but maybe it’s better that way.

“I’m—“ Clyde looks at Stensland and stops. Then softly, almost too quietly to hear over the crowd, Clyde speaks. “There’s a lot of people here. I just…I thought we might have a moment alone.”

“Oh. O-okay. Okay, yeah. We can—we can do that.” Stensland licks his lips nervously. “Um, we can…how-how about the Ferris wheel?”

Stensland starts walking towards the Ferris wheel before Clyde can reply. Clyde catches up to him quick enough, but he doesn’t protest as they get in line. It leaves Stensland enough freedom to shove cotton candy in his mouth while he tries to calm himself down.

It feels like a bit of a cop-out, picking a place to be alone that’s still surrounded by people, but Stensland’s heart is beating so hard that the words just fell out without thinking. It just feels so intimate to ask for a moment alone. They’ve only been there for an hour, maybe two, and the sun is just beginning to set. Isn’t it too soon to be so close?

“Stens? You afraid of heights? We don’t have to get on,” Clyde says. He puts his hand against Stensland back, and Stensland jumps in surprise.

“Uh, no! I—It’s just…um…cotton candy?” Stensland offers a piece of the treat, almost shoving it in Clyde’s face. Clyde eats it right out of his hand.

The shock must show on Stensland’s face as Clyde laughs and takes another piece of cotton candy, offering it to Stensland. Embarrassed, Stensland tries to take it from Clyde with his hands, only to have it pulled away. He frowns, but Clyde won’t let him take it. When Clyde does offer it to Stensland again, he gets the hint. Stensland glares at Clyde as he eats the treat from his hand, doing his best to look angry. They both burst out laughing as soon as Stensland swallows.

They take turns feeding each other as the line moves forward, managing to finish all of the cotton candy by the time they’re at the front. Their hands are a little sticky when they lock fingers again, but as long as they don’t have to let go, Stensland doesn’t care.

They head towards the next open cart, styled as a colorful bench, just big enough for two. However, the ride operator walks over to them, directing them to a bulkier looking pod. It was better suited for six people, complete with a canopy and windows. He gives Stensland a friendly smile that’s all too familiar.

“Hank!” Stensland exclaims. “I didn’t know you were working at the fair.”

“Of course,” Hank says. “I couldn’t just let you two _not_ have a good date.”

“What?”

“Uh…Have a good ride!” Hank walks off before Stensland can ask him what he meant. But as Hank closes the door to their pod, he pulls out a walkie-talkie. Stensland manages to catch the first few words he says. “ _Joe, they’re ready—“_

Joe? Who’s Joe, and why are they ready? Stensland starts to call out to Hank, but the Ferris wheel starts pulling them up before he gets the chance. The pod is oddly quiet. Stensland can barely hear the busy fair below them.

“What was he sayin’?” Clyde asks. His voice is suddenly so loud now that the rest of the fair is blocked out.  

“I’m not sure. Something about a Joe? Do you know someone named Joe?”

Clyde frowns. “…I do. He’s a very… _explosive_ fellow.”

“Oh. Okay,” Stensland says. “Is he a friend?”

“Not really. We spent a month together…uh… _working_.”

“Oh, what did you do?”

“…money transfer…”

“Okay. Cool.” Stensland refrains from asking anymore questions, not missing how vague Clyde is being. Maybe he doesn’t really get along with Joe.

Suddenly, the ride lurches to a stop when they’re at the very top of the Ferris wheel. Stensland peers down through the windows, but it’s hard to see exactly what’s going on. Clyde leans towards him, also trying to see what’s going on. He presses against Stensland, as he did with the fair games. Stensland freezes, unsure whether to lean in or lean away.

From below them, Hank walks out from the operating booth with a microphone. “Sorry folks!” He says. His voice sounds through speakers in the pod. “Generator blew out, but we’re working to fix it as soon as possible. Bear with us for a little while!”

Stensland sits back in his seat. “How long do you think ‘a little while’ will be.”

“Not sure.” Clyde stands and the pod wobbles. He’s forced to bend his head down as he inspects the windows. He frowns. “I can’t hear the fair.”

“Huh, I thought it was just me….ha. You know, it’s kind of relieving to know you think it’s weird, too.” Stensland watches him as he finishes his inspection and sits back down. He pauses for a moment, and then, while avoiding all eye contact, he puts his arms around Stensland’s shoulders.

Right. They’re on a date. A romantic date that Stensland managed to forget about at some point.

Tense and a little scared, Stensland settles back into Clyde’s touch. He’s suddenly aware of how very alone they are, up there at the top of the Ferris wheel. What are they supposed to do? Are they supposed to kiss? They’ve played games together, they’ve talked (sort of), they’ve fed each other, they’ve held hands; the only thing left is a kiss.

But Stensland’s hands start shaking at just the thought of kissing Clyde. What if his breath smells bad? What if his goes in too quickly or too slowly? What if he gets the angle wrong?

“You’re thinkin’ pretty hard there. What’s on your mind?” Clyde asks suddenly.

“Uh—sunset!” Stensland panics, saying the first thing he can think of. “You—we can see it—so beautiful. A real masterwork.”

He flashes Clyde the biggest smile he can manage, but the look of concern he gets in return stops him in his tracks. “…Actually…” Stensland sighs, frustrated. “I…is this alright? A-am I doing this right?”

Clyde doesn’t answer right away, looking taken aback by the question. So, Stensland continues. “I mean, I’ve been on so many dates, but they’ve all been awful no matter how hard I try to make it good, and I just…I always blame it on the women I go out with because they end up not liking me afterwards.” Stensland fidgets with his shirt, wishing he had enough room to pull his knees up. “I know that I—I don’t know how I feel about you yet, but you’re the best friend I’ve ever had and I…no matter what happens on this date, I don’t want you to not like me.”

The silence that settles between them is deafening. Stensland tries to keep his breathing steady less he starts crying. At least now, it’s dark. If he does cry, Clyde won’t see it. He’s messed everything up, now. In trying to make everything okay by having that conversation, he’s gone and messed it all up.

So, why is Clyde holding him so close?

It only takes a moment for Stensland to hug Clyde back. He wraps his arms around Clyde’s waist, squeezing tight. “I think you’re doin’ wonderfully. There’s no one else I’d rather be stuck on a Ferris wheel with,” Clyde says. Stensland laugh-sobs into his shoulder. “Besides…I don’t think I could ever _not_ like you.”

Clyde’s grip tightens around him as he speaks. “Y-you know, I...like you a whole lot. Stensland. I really…”

Stensland sighs, relived and overwhelmed all at once. Just hearing Clyde say that makes him want to laugh, cry, hold on to him forever.

Then a flash of light forces them apart. Stensland and Clyde jump back from each other. They search their pod for the light, but it’s disappeared. Then, another flash, but this time it’s green. Both of them look out of the window in front of them as more lights, more fireworks pop up and light up the sky. It’s a beautiful display of color and light, but the loud shocking _bang_ that usually accompanies them is nowhere to be heard.

“Can you hear it? I can’t hear it,” Stensland says. “It’s more like—I don’t know— _tapping_ than popping.”

Clyde laughs. He honest-to-god laughs, and that surprises Stensland more than the fireworks. Stensland’s never seen him smile like that let alone heard him laugh. If only Stensland could listen to that laugh every day.

“Joe,” Clyde says, when he notices Stensland staring. “He, uh, works with explosives. Used to always get in trouble for playin’ with fireworks when we were kids. He put on shows like this every year when we were older and he was allowed to, but…he stopped when I got back from Iraq.”

“The noise?” Stensland asks.

“Yeah…but for some reason, we can’t hardly hear anything outside this pod.” Clyde leans back to watch the fireworks, putting his arm behind Stensland again.

Their legs are pressed together, and Clyde is right there, but he still feels so far away. Before he can stop himself, Stensland leans back against Clyde. It’s much better, then, and it gets Clyde to laugh.

“Can I ask you something?” Stensland says as the fireworks burst open.

“Hmm?”

“Why me? Why do you like _me_ , of all people?...I mean, I have every reason to like you. You’re tall, handsome, kind, and wonderful, and caring, and…you make me want to be a better me…even though I’m just Stensland.”

Clyde sighs. “Well, I think Stensland is great.” He presses a kiss to the top of Stensland’s head. “I think he’s funny, charming, cute. I think he lights up every single room that he walks into. Most importantly, Stensland makes me happy.”

Stensland sniffles, wiping tears away with one hand while he reaches for Clyde’s hand with the other. He rests his head-on Clyde’s shoulder, tucking himself against Clyde’s side. Clyde presses another kiss to his head, and everything is so right.

They stay like that, snuggled together as they watch the rest of the fireworks show. The Ferris wheel very conveniently doesn’t get power back until just after the show ends.

“So…do you?” Clyde asks as they descend back to the ground.

“Do I what?”

“Do you like me?”

Stensland takes a breath. “I…I think so,” He confesses. It feels so right to say. “But…I think we should go on another date or two to be sure.”

Clyde laughs again, a sound Stensland will never tire of hearing. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“Then, take me to dinner?” Stensland asks as they step off the ride. Clyde takes his hand, following him towards the fair entrance. He bumps into a few people and almost crashes into a booth, unwilling to take his eyes off Clyde. His face is warm, like he’s had too much to drink.

“Did somebody say ‘dinner?’” From behind a booth, Jimmy jumps out in front of them wearing an apron, a white towel over his arm, and a very obviously fake mustache. “Mon-sawyers, if you would please follow me, your dinner awaits you.”

Stensland isn’t sure if he should laugh. Clyde stares at him, all traces of his smile gone. “Mon-sawyers?”

“Yeah, it’s French for ‘sirs.’ Now let’s get on before your food gets cold.”

“Jimmy, what are you doing here?”

Jimmy walks off towards the barn, calling over his shoulder as he goes. “Hurry up before Mellie comes for you instead.”

Clyde looks at Stensland, unsure and a little upset. Stensland does his best to stay positive. He can’t imagine what it must be like to have a sibling interrupt your date, but Clyde doesn’t look very happy about it.

“I mean, the sooner we can eat,” Stensland says with a shrug.

Honestly, he’s curious as to what Jimmy will lead them to. It doesn’t seem like a coincidence that he showed up just as they were planning to eat dinner. Considering how convenient their entire Ferris wheel ride was, Stensland wouldn’t be surprised if their whole date had been planned without either of them knowing.

Though reluctant, Clyde lets Stensland pull him towards the barn. He glares holes into the back of Jimmy’s head as they go, however. “Mon-sawyers,” he mutters. “Can’t even pronounce it right.”

“It’s all for you.”

“I didn’t ask for this!”

“Well, Cassie-toy!” Jimmy shouts back. Stensland squeezes Clyde’s hand again, trying to keep him calm.

 

Stensland was under the impression that the barn was being used for storage, but as they arrive, he sees how beautifully it’s been decorated. There are flower-shaped Christmas lights strung everywhere, and the gentle sound of 70s and 80s love songs floats through the air. In the main area of the barn is Clyde’s truck.

Mellie greets them by the door with a knowing smile.

“Did all of you plan this?” Stensland asks.

“Mon-sawyers?” Clyde asks.

Mellie sighs and gives Jimmy a look, but the smile is back on her face as soon as she looks back at Stensland. “If you’ll follow me, please,” she says.

She leads them up to the barn’s loft, which is just tall enough for Clyde to stand properly. The music is louder up here, but just barely. At the far end of the loft by the window, there’s a blanket laid out on the floor. Covered plates, forks, knives, wine glasses, and a bottle full of wine are laid out on top of it. A perfect romantic dinner for two.

“Holler if you need anything, and Clyde’s truck is just downstairs when y’all decide you’re ready to leave. Enjoy!” Mellie says. Then, she leaves them to their dinner.

“Look at this!” Stensland exclaims. He sits down on the blanket and uncovers their plates. “I can’t believe they did this for us.”

Clyde sits beside him, poking at the food on his plate with his fork. He glares at the decorations. “What’s wrong?” Stensland asks.

“Nothin’,” Clyde mutters. He shoves a few fried vegetables in his mouth.

“I think it was nice of them,” Stensland says. “I mean, I can’t imagine how long this must’ve taken them to put together.”

“They shouldn’t’ve.” Clyde reaches across the blanket and pours himself a glass of wine.

“Why?” Stensland’s not sure why Clyde is so upset. Jimmy and Mellie are his siblings. They’re just trying to be nice.

“M’not a kid. I don’t need them to help me take you on a date.” He shoves more fried vegetables in his mouth.

Stensland’s not sure how to make this better. He doesn’t have siblings. “Well…at least they did a good job?” He tries. He offers some more food to Clyde. “You should try the fried cauliflower. It’s good.”

Clyde freezes. “What did you just say to me?”

“Uhh…the fried cauliflower is good?” Stensland takes a bite of it just to make sure. Clyde covers his face with his hands and lays down flat on the floor. “What? Do you not like cauliflower?”

“The last time Jimmy said ‘cauliflower’ to me, he bought me my fancy prosthetic arm,” Clyde explains. When he moves his hands aside, he looks much calmer.

“Oh. Is it, like, a code-word for something?”

Clyde shrugs. “He used it a lot when we were kids. Every time he said it, I knew there would be some ridiculous plan involving me that would probably get us in trouble. But I always went along with it cause he’s my brother.”

“So…what does that mean for our date?” Stensland asks, staring down at his half-eaten fried cauliflower.

Clyde reaches up, caressing Stensland’s face. “It means…that they did whatever it took to make sure we have a good date.”

Stensland’s not quite sure what Clyde means, but it makes sense to him. “So, you’re okay with this, then?”

“Only ‘cause you’re here.”

Stensland blushes. “Where’d you learn how to flirt?”

Clyde sits up, bumping Stensland with his shoulder. “Just tellin’ the truth.”

“And when did you get so talkative?”

“When you said you like me.”

Stensland bites his lip. “I only said I _think_ I like you.”

“I bet you I can prove you do,” Clyde says, leaning closer.

“How?”

Clyde takes Stensland’s hand and presses it to his chest, right over his heart. Stensland can feel his hear beating fast. “That’s because of you,” Clyde whispers. “I like you, Stensland. I really like you, and I bet if you like me too, your heart’ll beat just as fast.”

Then, Stensland takes Clyde’s hand pressing it over his own heart. “Is it?” Stensland asks.

“Feels like it.”

“Then I guess I like you.”

“Guess so.”

Stensland smiles so wide that his cheeks hurt. He laughs, unable to hold it back. “Shite, I really like you.” Clyde laughs with him as Stensland tackles him with a hug.

All this time, and Clyde was what Stensland was missing. He’s not sure why he couldn’t see it before when it just feels so right, now. This, Clyde is everything he’s ever wanted. Someone loving, handsome; someone who adores Stensland as much as Stensland adores him.

“Stensland,” Clyde says. “There’s, uh, still one more thing I’d like to do tonight.”

“Hmm?” Stensland sits up straight, giddy and happy.

Clyde takes a breath and looks Stensland straight in the eye. “May I…May I kiss you?”

Stensland gasps. “Like…” his gaze flickers down to Clyde’s lips.

“If you’ll let me.”

“Yes.”

Clyde leans in slowly, hesitating as their lips brush together, but Stensland gets impatient. He squeezes his eyes shut and just goes for it. Then, he wishes he’d had the guts to kiss Clyde sooner. His lips are a bit chapped, and Clyde tastes a bit like wine. Their noses bump together a bit awkwardly, and the kiss only lasts a few seconds, but they pull away laughing. It’s the best thing Stensland’s ever done.

“May I kiss you again?” Clyde asks almost as soon as they part.

Stensland’s lips are still tingling from the first kiss, but he answers, “yes.”

If he has to be drunk on something tonight, he’s glad it’s Clyde. Kissing him proves more addicting than Stensland’s favorite drinks. They end up making out for a few minutes, until Stensland’s lips feel numb. They’re both panting and flushed.

“Why you tell didn’t me sooner?” Stensland asks. He had no idea being with Clyde would be so wonderful. “If I had known it would be this wonderful…”

Clyde sighs. “I was scared.”

“Of what? Me?”

“That you wouldn’t like me.” Clyde says. “I didn’t…I didn’t wanna lose you over some silly little crush.”

Stensland pecks him again. “If your crush is silly, then I must be an idiot.”

“Just seemed like you weren’t interested,” Clyde says. “And I figured, if you ain’t interested in me, then I should respect that and just…be the best friend I could possibly be for you. I’d rather be your friend than not have you in my life at all.”

“Clyde…” Stensland frowns. “How could you do that to yourself?”

“What?”

“That’s not being fair to you! How can you respect my feelings if you won’t respect your own?” Stensland shouts. “You owed it to yourself to ask me out and you didn’t because…because you thought you’d lose me?”

“Well…yeah—“

“But what about you?! How could you hurt yourself like that?”

Clyde sighs. He presses his forehead against Stensland’s. “Because I thought it would be worse to lose you completely.”

“Well that, _bullshit_ ,” Stensland says. He takes Clyde’s face in his hands. “You’re not allowed to do that anymore, alright? If you’re going to be my boyfriend, I won’t have you pushing down your feelings. Just tell me. I won’t let you hurt yourself, even if it’s for me. Okay?”

Stensland stares at him, waiting for an answer. Clyde smiles. “I’m your boyfriend?”

“Um.” That wasn’t something he was supposed to say out loud. “Well, I-I-I meant that—not that I _don’t_ want you to—I just…only if you agree to talk to me about things.”

“Okay,” Clyde says. “Does that mean I’m your boyfriend?”

“I-I guess it does.”

Clyde kisses him. “Perfect.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm DEAD. _Nothing_ sounded right as I was writing this, then I sat down on Friday and said "it's been three fucking weeks, you gotta publish this thing," and it hit me all at once. 
> 
> Thank you for being so patient with me! 
> 
> Just a reminder that the next chapter is NOT the last chapter of the fic. The last chapter of the fic will be linked in the end notes, so don't click out of the tab as soon as you're done reading!
> 
> [Come hang out with me on tumblr!](https://www.aiambia.tumblr.com)


	10. Just One Carton of Ice Cream

 

 

 

Stensland stares at the pack of sour gummy worms on the shelf, longing for the sour sweet gooeyness on his tongue. He reaches out for a bag, only to have his hand knocked away.

“Oh, come on! Just one! Just-just the one bag, and I _promise_ I’ll stop eating them after that,” Stensland protests.

“Uncle Clyde said no candy!” Sadie tells him. She frowns up at him with her hands on her hips.

“Yeah, well—“

“Stens,” Clyde says. He returns with bottles of juice before Stensland can start an argument.

“Just one bag!” Stensland pleads, but Clyde is already pushing the cart down the aisle.

“’Just one bag’ is the whole reason why we’re here.” Clyde turns into the meat aisle, bypassing the bacon in favor of a package of pre-sliced turkey. He compares brands while Stensland sulks by the cart.

Whole-wheat bread, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, broccoli, apples, peaches, bananas, peanut butter, grape juice, dried pasta, and now pre-sliced turkey. There’s not a single item in the cart that Stensland likes or knows how to cook with. It’s his fault, really. If he had just stuck to the meal plan Clyde helped him come up with, then Clyde and Sadie wouldn’t be here babysitting him. But how could he resist a liter of Mountain Dew when it was a dollar off? How could he just walk by when his favorite canned beef noodles were buy two get one free? How could he pass up the opportunity when a party bag of M&Ms was going for half its usual price?

It’s not that Stensland doesn’t want to eat healthier, just that it’s really hard to. Why does he have to spend half an hour cooking for himself when beef noodles take three minutes to warm up in the microwave?

As Clyde puts his preferred brand of turkey slices in the cart, Sadie runs up to them and drops a bag of M&Ms beside it. She gives Stensland a smug grin and skips off towards the dairy aisle, Clyde following close behind.

“What?! Aren’t you—why does—that’s not fair! Why does she get candy, but I don’t! She’s eight! I’m an adult!” Stensland whines.

Jimmy walks up behind them, carrying a bag of apples. He laughs. “Sadie eats her vegetables.”

“Well…I…I eat my vegetables,” Stensland lies. He shuffles along after the group, dragging his feet as he goes. He stops right behind Clyde and leans forward, resting his forehead on Clyde’s back.

Clyde laughs. “We’re almost done,” he says.

“But we’re not getting anything good!”

“It’s all pretty healthy.”

“You know what I mean,” Stensland says. “Where’s the delicious bubbly pop? Where’s the salty crunchy chips? Where’re the warm and sticky donuts? Sure, vegetables are healthy, but it’s all bland and bitter! It’s nothing like that sweet, sweet taste of strawberry ice cream.”

“I thought you wanted to turn your pudge into abs?” Clyde adds a carton of milk to the cart. 2%. Which is practically water.

“Well…yeah, but…it’s not like I _don’t_ want abs, but there’s nothing wrong with a little pudge.” Stensland crosses his arms over himself.

Clyde pulls him closer with one arm, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “True. Your pudge is cute.” He pinches Stensland’s stomach through his shirt. Stensland squeals. Clyde’s grip is to strong for him to squirm away.

“I-it’s—I’m not cute!” He says. A blush rises to his cheeks.

“Are you sure?” Clyde asks. He abandons the cart to hold Stensland with both hands.

“Cause cuties get kisses.” He kisses Stensland’s cheek again. Stensland tries to resist smiling.

“And last time I checked—“ Then he kisses Stensland’s nose, and it makes Stensland laugh.

“—You get a lot of kisses.” And finally, he kisses Stensland’s lips. Stensland sighs. He wraps his arms around Clyde’s neck, and pulls him closer.

They linger there for a moment, wrapped up in each other until a passerby coughs rather loudly. The older woman at the end of the aisle glares at them over her shoulder. Stensland jumps away, embarrassed, but Clyde keeps him close.

“Well…I guess I’m a _little_ cute,” Stensland says. “I can’t help it that I’m delicate, and you know, changing my diet so radically and so suddenly would really upset my stomach. Really, it’s better to do it in small steps. Maybe start with a fruit smoothie every third morning, and then we can try creamed corn and spinach on weekends, and after that we can upgrade to a veggie casserole once a week.”

Clyde rolls his eyes. “One pint,” he says.

Stensland perks up immediately. “Really?”

“ _One pint_ of ice cream, alright?”

Stensland kisses him again. “Thank you, honey bear! You’re the best boyfriend ever.” Clyde melts a bit, smiling at the pet name, then Stensland runs off towards the ice cream aisle.

There are hundreds of choices; flavors of every kind and brands that each specialize in something different. But, there’s only one flavor that Stensland searches for: Miss Moo’s Sweet Strawberry Cream. It’s the sweetest, creamiest brand on the market, and they use real fruit in their strawberry flavor so that it’s not entirely unhealthy.

He opens the freezer door, savoring this moment as the next may not come for a while. The perfect pink packaging is cold in his hand. Stensland holds it with both hands; at the top and bottom so that the ice cream maintains peak frozen conditions for as long as possible.

“Find one?” Clyde asks, pushing the cart up behind him.

“Yes!”  Stensland places it carefully in the cart, careful not to damage the carton. It stands out beautifully, bright pink against a sea of green leaves.

Jimmy comes by with a few more groceries. “Alright, that’s everything. Are we—“ He pauses and glares at the ice cream. “Clyde.”

“It’s just one pint,” Clyde says. He avoids Jimmy’s gaze and walks off with the cart towards checkout.

“That’s not fair,” Saide says.

“Yes well,” Stensland says. He sticks his tongue out at her.

She gasps and stomps on his foot. Stensland stops mid-step, toes curling in pain. Sadie runs for the car. “Jerk face!” Sadie taunts.

“Why you little brat!” Stensland runs off after her, hobbling on his good foot.

They pass Clyde at the checkout and dodge other shoppers as they exit the store. Sadie is fast, but she’s no match for Stensland’s long legs. He catches up to her right as they reach the parking lot. Stensland grabs her by the waist and lifts her up into the air before she can run out into the street.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Stensland asks. He holds her tight with one arm and tickles her mercilessly with the other. Sadie shrieks and laughs. She pushes at Stensland’s arms, but makes no real effort to get away.

“Come on! Say it!”

“You’re a butt-head!”

Stensland tickles her harder. He uses all of his strength to lift her off the ground and manages to throw her over his shoulder. Sadie shrieks even louder. Other shoppers glare at them, but Sadie and Stensland are too wrapped up in their own game to notice.

“God, what have you been eating? You weigh as much as an elephant!” Stensland says. It sounds like a joke, but she really is heavy. Or maybe he’s just not that strong.

“At least I don’t look like a sun-burned hippo!”

Stensland frowns. That one hurt a little. Where does she get these insults from? Jimmy is never that mean to him.

“Alright, knock it off you two,” Jimmy says somewhere behind them. Stensland spins around and Sadie squeaks as she’s swung. “You’re making a scene.”

“He started it!” Sadie complains.

“Well, I’m ending it.” Jimmy plucks her from Stensland’s arms. Stensland nearly collapses, arms still shaking from the strain of holding up seventy pounds of pure terror. Jimmy carries her to the car, leaving Clyde and Stensland to put away the groceries.

“She really likes you, you know,” Clyde says.

“Are you sure? She called me a sun-burned hippo.” Stensland smiles. Maybe she’s a bit mean, but Stensland likes Sadie, too. She may be a kid, but she doesn’t judge him for messing around like one.

“Her way of saying ‘you’re my friend.’ You’re really good with her.”

“I don’t know why.” Stensland sighs. “I’ve never been good with kids. They always cry when I walk by. Sadie’s just that one-in-a-million.”

They finish putting the groceries in Clyde’s truck in silence. Then, just as they’re about to climb into the truck, Clyde asks, “So…you’ve never thought about having your own?”

“Kids?” Stensland asks. “Oh. Uh, I guess not. I mean…Well, I guess it would be kind of cool, but I’m already enough of a mess. Can you imagine how insane it would be with a bunch of mini-Stenslands running around? Pure chaos.”

Stensland laughs. “Nah. Kids would be nice, but I wouldn’t make a good dad.” He climbs into the truck, sitting beside Sadie in the back seat.

Clyde lingers outside, and for a moment, Stensland thinks he hears him say: “You never know. Maybe one day.”

 

 

…

 

 

“They fell asleep pretty fast,” Jimmy says. “Guess Sadie tired Stens out.”

Clyde hums.

“I heard you talking to him.”

“I talk to Stens a lot.”

“About Sadie.”

Clyde sighs. Jimmy laughs. “You gotta tell him first.”

“Tell him what?”

“That you lo-“

“Shut up.”

“It’s not gonna take you forever this time, right? Jimmy asks. Clyde grunts instead of answering. “But even if you do tell him soon, you can’t get married yet. You’ve only been dating for a month. You have to let him get settled.”

“Who said anything about getting married?”

“Your browser history.”

The truck jerks violently, and Stensland’s eyes fly open. As soon as they’re settled, he screws them shut again. His heart beats fast from the adrenaline of almost driving off the road, and from Jimmy and Clyde’s conversation. Love? Marriage? Is that why Clyde was asking about kids.

“I can’t believe you photoshopped your faces together,” Jimmy says. “I mean the kids were cute, but that’s taking it a little far, don’t you think?”

Clyde wrings his hands on the steering wheel, making the leather squeak. He doesn’t answer.

Stensland keeps his eyes closed as tight as he can, knowing that Clyde is probably looking at him through the rear-view mirror. It’s hard to keep the smile off of his face, but somehow, he manages.

Suddenly having kids isn’t such a bad idea. Maybe not now, but you never know. Maybe one day.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and a big thank you to everyone who just finished reading this story! An even bigger thank you to everyone who waited like two months for me to finally post the last chapters. You've been so patient with me and I'm so thankful to you for sticking with me. This story was such a joy to write. I had an absolute blast!
> 
> I honestly thought this fic would only be two chapters, and it would be my one-and-done for Clydeland, but Stens and Clyde have really grown on me. They're not the most perfect ship, but they try, you know? They try really hard for each other, and I love that. 
> 
> Anyway! There's still one more chapter to this story, but it's rated Explicit, [so you can read it here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15939038)


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